All We Know Is Falling
by d i n o b o t
Summary: Years in the future, Ash Ketchum is a secret agent of the Pokémon League sent to investigate the disappearance of an old friend. The evidence leads him to Cerulean City, fatal battles and a deadly conspiracy that could threaten all he holds dear. AAML
1. All We Know

**Summary** – Years in the future, Ash Ketchum is an agent of the Pokémon League sent to investigate the disappearance of an old friend. The evidence leads him to Cerulean City, fatal battles and a deadly conspiracy that could threaten all he holds dear. Pokeshipping.

**A/N** – There are flashbacks interspersed throughout the whole story. They do tie into the overall development of the story-line. So be vigilant, every little detail is crucial. Enjoy.

* * *

**  
All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 1 – **All We Know**

* * *

"I hate these things."

Ash swallowed nervously as he fidgeted with his tie. He undid the top button of his new dress shirt, allowing him to breathe. Ash never liked ties, suits or anything fancy; but today was different. Ash cautiously peered away from his newly shined shoes and looked around.

Within his company were dozens of people, some he knew and some he didn't—all wearing black. Ash worked his way through the densely packed crowd. He stopped and carefully lifted his hand, placing it on the shoulder of another boy.

"I'm sorry," he said solemnly.

The other boy turned around, his spiky brown hair bent in the light dusky breeze.

"Hi, Ash," he said softly. "Thank you for coming."

"No problem, Gary," Ash responded by shaking his head. The two remained in an awkward pause. Ash was never good in delicate social situations. A mere apology seemed cliché but a hug might be too forward. He elected to break the silence regardless.

"I'm sorry for your loss. I really am," he finally said.

"Yeah, I know you are," Gary nodded. "Grandpa was a wonderful man – smart and brilliant. My father was never around and he was like a father to me, you know?"

"I know. He was like a father to me too. He did so much for me and my family. Professor Oak started me on my dream to become a Pokémon Master. His guidance throughout the years is invaluable. He even kept my Mom company when I was away."

"Yep, that's Gramps," Gary chuckled. "He was kind and always did the right thing."

Ash nodded in agreement. Another uneven silence carried itself between them. This time Gary dismissed it.

"I'm gonna miss him," Gary said, smiling through his newly forming tears. "I don't know what to do next" he wiped them away.

"Well, the lab is still in your family's name, isn't it? Maybe you can continue running it."

Gary sighed; the notion of filling the shoes of the renowned Samuel Oak was a daunting task. The Professor was widely known and well respected as evidence of the distinguished attendees present at his funeral. Various Professors from other regions, Gym Leaders and League Officials were there all mixed in with his many friends and colleagues.

"I don't know, Ash. I mean, there's so much to do to run that lab. Sure, I was Grandpa's intern for a while so to speak, but he did most of the heavy research. I just followed his lead. He taught me all I know," Gary placed the palm of his hand on his forehead. "Not to mention there's the bills, upkeep, Pokémon to take care of, maintenance—" Gary trailed off despondently.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Ash reassured him.

His solace did not alleviate his concern, but it did lead to a powerful realization. Gary confidently lifted up his head and beamed.

"Grandpa would've wanted me to continue," Gary exclaimed. "I owe it to him to carry on his legacy; it would make him happy. I want him to be proud of me."

"I bet he is."

"People will see," Gary whispered. "I'll carve out an even greater legacy than Grandpa did. I'm going to accomplish more. I'm going to be better—" he turned to Ash, eyes burning zealously. "You'll be there right, Ash?"

"Sure, you got it!"

"Grandpa was like a father to you too, Ash. Do you know what that makes us?"

Ash thought for a moment; "Uh—Family?"

"Brothers," he corrected him, extending his hand. Ash gratefully shook it.

"Well, I better go. I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow," Ash said gesturing to his ride outside.

"Oh right," Gary smirked, embarrassed for his temporary lapse in memory. "So, when you're done with the League's training you'll be what, a Pokémon Ranger?"

"Nah, when I'm done the Rangers will be calling me 'sir,'" he boasted, pointing to his chest.

The two laughed, shared a quick friendly goodbye and parted.

"See ya!"

* * *

**THREE YEARS LATER**

"Pikachu, Thunderbolt!"

Pikachu yelled his name as electrical energy sparked from the small red circles on his cheeks. The electric attack surged from the yellow rodent's body, shattering a small target in the middle of the floor. Pikachu weaved his way through a series of small rings then high-jumped off a platform. As he fell another target rose from the ground. Pikachu somersaulted in the air, perfectly landed and swiped the air with an Iron Tail attack. The last target lay in pieces on the floor.

Ash ran beside Pikachu forcing through his own set of obstacles. He climbed up and over a small wall. He flipped off and landed softly on a thin balance beam. Ash crossed it with a series of acrobatic flips and spins then sprung himself onto a giant mat; gasping a long wooden staff. He twirled it evenly between his fingers as five mechanical pillars rose from the ground and surrounded him. Ash spun the staff between his hands and attacked. Using three fluid motions he struck all five pillars cleanly. A small mechanical 'ding' echoed through the training room signifying the course's completion.

Ash walked to a control panel steadily rising from the floor and tapped a few buttons, eagerly watching the display panel.

Agent: _Ash Ketchum_  
Level of difficulty: _Hard_  
Completion time: 18.02 seconds – _new record_  
Collective targets hit: 20/20 – _new record_

Ash smirked, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow. He turned to his Pokémon trotting up beside him.

"Well Pikachu, shall we go again?"

"Piiikaa—" Pikachu shook his head and fell to the floor completely exhausted.

The doors to the training room slid open as another joined them. The figure remained in the threshold and crossed his arms.

"I should've known you'd be here," he mumbled.

"Hey, Brock," Ash said as he placed Pikachu on his right shoulder. "What's up?"

"What's up?" Brock repeated annoyed. "Ash, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Sure I do," he shrugged confidently looking at his wrist watch. "It's almost 6:3—Oh," he trailed off as he realized the actual time – 11:45pm.

"Do you remember a little appointment we had earlier tonight?"

"Uh—yeah," Ash uneasily rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry about that."

"We had a double date, you and I. Remember, Joy was going to set you up with one of her friends? We all waited forty-five minutes at the restaurant for you to show. Don't tell me you've been here for the last five hours! I bet you don't even have your phone on you, huh?"

"Uh, no," Ash stammered. His ignorance only pushed Brock further.

"Relax, Brock," Ash said wiping sweat off his face with a small towel. "I lost track of time, that's all. I just forgot."

"Ash, this is the second time this month you've done this to us!"

"What's your point?" he dumbly started back.

"We all appreciate your work ethic but you're too consumed in it. It's okay to take a break. It's okay to come up for air once in a while, you know."

"I know that," Ash stoically answered.

"No you don't! You've almost never been outside Pokémon League Headquarters for anything social. Remember the Pokémon League function in Vermillion City a while back?"

"What about it?" Ash asked rolling his eyes.

"It was a big deal, Ash. You blew us off that time too! The League made it clear that every employee was supposed to attend, especially agents. People were really counting on you to show up!"

"Like who? Who was _missing_ me there? All those functions are boring and tedious anyways!!"

"Uh, look that's not important," Brock dismissed the question. "You just don't get it Ash. People were counting on you and you let them down."

Ash remained silent. The evidence overwhelmingly stacked itself in Brock's favor. He could not deny it even for a young man as dense as Ash Ketchum. He was the only agent in the Pokémon League who never took a vacation day or a leave of absence. He only left the Indigo League Complex for mandatory field exercises and assignments. His life the last three years essentially was work, training, eating and sleeping. He had little room for a personal life, especially for…

Ash lowered his head. "Look Brock, I'm just really busy right now; that's all. Can we just let it go?"

Ash's response did not satisfy his friend, but he slowly nodded and forgave his latest infraction. It was a lost cause. Brock walked towards the exit but stopped in the threshold forcing the sliding doors to remain open.

"Just promise me something, Ash," back still against him. "Promise me you'll try to be more balanced. You're a good agent but the great ones find the balance."

He left, the doors closed and so did their conversation.

* * *

"Well buddy, what do you want to do next?" Ash looked to his Pokémon still snoozing peacefully on his shoulder. Ash chuckled and shook his head.

"I guess we kinda overdid it, didn't we Pikachu?" he asked again knowing full well Pikachu wasn't listening.

Ash continued walking down the hallway. He wasn't tired despite his five hour training workout. He was wide awake and full of energy. They entered into a large employee lounge. Ash delicately placed the slumbering Pikachu on a small couch and made his way towards the refrigerator. He took a cold water bottle, twisted off the top and halfway guzzled it down in one sitting. He wiped off a stray line of water running from the corner of his mouth with his forearm.

A gathering crowed caught his attention. Various employees huddled around a large flat screen television mounted on the wall furthest from him. The commotion intensified as Ash approached.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" he asked, squeezing himself through the closely knit crowd. A dozen people awarded his inquiry by simultaneously shushing him. Ash frowned and focused his attention to the television.

BREAKING NEWS: _"In case you've just joined us – Pallet Town's Researcher Gary Oak is missing. Authorities have declared him missing since this afternoon…"_

"Gary?" Ash whispered.

The television screen panned to a shot of Pallet Town and then to the Pokémon Lab. A few officers were shown setting up a perimeter of the lab with yellow police tape; even Officer Jenny was there with a notepad questioning various bystanders in the background.

The skinny attractive reporter spoke again: _"There are still some preliminary reports coming in, but the local police force is stating there are no witness and no suspects as of yet—no word if this has any Team Rocket involvement. No word yet on an official statement from the Pokémon League Headquarters. A source says the Elite Four will continue waiting until they decide on an agent to investigate the situation..."_

"Still waiting?!"

The reporter went on: _"Gary Oak comes from a highly respected family line of Pokémon Researchers. He assumed the lead researcher in Pallet when his grandfather Professor Samuel Oak sadly passed away three years ago…"_

Ash pulled himself out of the crowd. He walked to the couch and gently took his seat beside his sleeping Pikachu. He tilted forward and stared at the tile floor.

"This is it," he said in an undertone. "This is my chance!"

Ash rose and ran down the hallway. He decided to leave Pikachu on the coach. He knew full well the consequences of waking an exhausted electric Pokémon.

Ash reached the elevator at the end of the corridor and pushed the button to the top floor. The doors opened then shut, and hummed its way to the highest level of the complex. A small 'ding' sounded as Ash rushed out of the elevator. He pushed through a swinging glass door and crept passed a small receptionist desk. A large set of metal doors stood before him.

_RESTRICTED: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY_

"Ahem!"

He turned around; starting him in the face was a tall blond receptionist with glasses. Ash gulped and stepped back.

"Young man, what do you think you're doing?" she looked him up and down.

"I need to see them."

"You know the rules," she pointed at a clipboard with a list of names attached to it. "You have to make an appointment just like everyone else!"

"Look, I don't have time for that!" Ash shouted. "It'll just take a second!" He turned and headed toward the doors.

"Hey, wait right there!"

Ash burst the doors open and entered into a dark room. The only source of light emitted from a skylight on the ceiling, letting just enough moonlight to illuminate a large elevated table. Four figures speaking inaudibly stopped with the sudden interruption.

"What's the meaning of this?" one of them yelled.

"I'm so sorry, masters" the receptionist bowed respectfully. "He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. I tried to stop him—"

The four distinct figures murmured among themselves. Finally, one raised a hand.

"Its fine, you may leave us."

The receptionist politely bowed again and closed the doors. They echoed loudly as they closed like a rusty door to a jail cell.

"Agent Ketchum," Agatha's voice coldly addressed him. "This is highly unorthodox."

Ash swallowed nervously. "I know it is. I—I needed to speak with the four of you."

"Oh, and what would we have to talk about?" Agatha rose. She clutched her petrified wooden cane in her wrinkled grasp.

Ash swallowed hard again. He did not think this through. "I'm sure you already know about the news from Pallet. I want to be sent on that assignment."

"Agent Ketchum, the rules are clear," Lorelei reminded him in a soft voice, her glasses reflected in the ghostly moonlight. "Assignments are chosen by the four of us. Agents must bend to the will of the council."

"I realize that, but I—"

"But you don't, Ash!" Bruno interrupted him in a low husky tone. "If you did, you would wait for our decision and respect it!"

Ash stood in silence. The four masters coldly stared back at him.

"I'm ready," he firmly said. "I know you don't have faith in me, but this is something I can do—trust me!"

"Trust?" Lorelei responded. "Agent Ketchum, trust is earned not given freely."

"Frankly, you've given us no reason to trust you with a high priority assignment like this," Agatha said in a crackled voice.

"You've never given me one! Every mission you've sent me on are all small. What did I do? Why won't you let me on this assignment?" Ash raised his voice impatiently.

"Young man, every assignment is an important one!" Bruno roared. His intensity silenced the debate.

"Ash," the last figure steadily rose, flinging his cape behind him. "The reason why we are not giving you this assignment is because we have already chosen another agent."

"Oh," Ash trailed off. "Who is it?"

"Right behind you, Ash."

Ash turned around. A male figure with shiny purple hair stepped from the shadows.

"Paul…" Ash grumbled.

"Paul is a fine agent" Lance said. "He has succeeded in every mission he's been assigned. We've chosen him to lead this investigation."

"Him?" Ash defiantly retorted. "Paul's from Sinnoh, he doesn't know the Kanto Region like I do. Plus, this happened in Pallet, my home town. Who better to lead the investigation than me?"

"Your objections are noted," Agatha waved a stern finger. "But our decision is final."

Ash lowered his head, his bangs hid his eyes. A defeated paused hovered in the cold air.

"Hold on a moment," Lance finally said. "Agent Ketchum has a point."

"I—I do," Ash stammered.

"As qualified as Paul is he still needs to know the surroundings. Perhaps it would be prudent to send two agents on this mission. Ash knows the territory, he could prove useful." The other three Masters nodded in agreement. They dare not object to Lance's request.

"Then it's settled. Ash will accompany Paul on the mission. But let it be known Agent Ketchum, you take your orders from Paul."

"I understand," Ash sighed, peering back to Paul, smiling much to his amusement.

The two quietly exited the room. The giant doors piercingly closed behind them. Ash beat Paul to the glass door and walked ahead of him down the hallway busily belting orders.

"So, I was thinking we could start with the phone records. We need to cross reference the numbers on the lab's list with the list the League has. We need to know who has called within the last six months. I want to know who he's been talking to. Also, get in touch with the local police force; we need to coordinate with them. It's good to find out what they've been doing so far. We'll go to the crime scene first. We'll do some interviews and check the place for anything out of the ordinary. I think there might be security footage we can see and then we'll—whoa!"

Paul grabbed Ash and pulled him back, spinning him around by his shirt.

"Listen, you punk!" Paul snorted. "This is my investigation—mine! You're just here to tag along. If it were up to me I'd be going solo without having to drag you around!"

"What are you saying?" Ash tore his grip from his shirt, "that I'm incompetent, that I don't know what I'm doing? You're wrong; I'm the best agent in this League!"

"Please," Paul sarcastically replied. "The only reason you're on this investigation is because you got sympathy from the Dragon Master. You don't have what it takes, Ash!"

This time Ash grabbed Paul's shirt collar. He unhooked a Pokéball from his belt and enlarged it. "Oh yeah? Let's go right now! I've beaten you before and I can do it again!"

"Ash, I'm not going to battle you," Paul stated calmly.

"Why not—scared?"

Paul laughed. "Scared? No, I'm not scared." He loosened himself from Ash's tight grip. "Ash, nobody is questioning your skills. You finished the entry level training and advanced level training in half the time it took everyone else. All your Pokémon are fully trained and capable. You've completed every assignment at near perfect efficiency. Hell, if I took a look at the training logs they'd tell me that you spend the most time in there. Everyone knows it!"

"Then why?" Ash demanded the answer.

Paul pointed to Ash's head. "Its not here that's the problem; it's—" his finger gradually lowered to his chest. "Here."

They both remained silent.

"You could never separate your feelings from the task; that's why they didn't consider you. Your stupid heart gets in the way of what needs to be done. You're a liability; the League doesn't want you to compromise the mission." Paul arrogantly smirked again. "That's why they wanted me, to get the job done right. Let me do the job I was actually assigned to do."

"Fine," Ash mumbled under his breath. He would submit—this time.

"That's better," he nodded happily. "The Elite Four has already briefed me on the mission. They gave me all the intelligence they had on the situation."

"Really?" Ash asked, walking beside him. "Is Team Rocket behind this?"

"From what I've gathered, it most likely is. Giovanni is up to his old tricks again."

"But why would they kidnap Gary?" Ash wondered.

"That's the million dollar question," Paul reiterated. "But we won't know that until we get to Pallet Town and find some hard evidence. You know the drill – the plane goes up in an hour. Get your gear together, four Pokémon and be ready on platform 'D.'

"Got it," he walked the opposite way.

"And Ash..." Paul stopped him. "Try to keep up."

"Don't worry about me—I can take care of myself!" The two separated as the hallway forked into two different paths.

Ash ran. He forgot Pikachu on the couch! He darted from the elevator down through the hallway. His eagerness outgained his balance as he came sliding down the tile toward the sleeping Pikachu.

Horrible idea, Ash.

"PIKACHUUUUU!!"

Ash fell to the ground. Pikachu poked his nose over the couch at his electrified trainer. Ash groaned and regained his balance. Pikachu cooed an apology.

"It's alright, buddy," Ash assured him. "I should've known better."

Ash extended his arm, allowing Pikachu run up it and rest on his head. The two made their way outside the complex and headed to the living quarters. Ash opened the door to his two bedroom apartment and walked inside. Pikachu jumped off his head and immediately ran to the kitchen in search of a midnight snack.

Ash walked to his desk; he stared at a silver medium size case holding a dozen Pokéballs. His hand reluctantly hovered over the case, then finally selected three Pokéballs and attached them to his belt.

Ash opened the front desk drawer. As he flipped through some papers, one dropped from the pile and danced its way to the ground. He bent down to pick it up. The paper was old, creased and wrinkled. Ash sighed, wondering why in the world he kept this stupid thing.

Unfolding it, Ash read the letter carefully from beginning to end; from "_Ash, its…"_ to the ending word _"Misty_."

Without a word, he folded the paper back up and slid it in his pocket. Ash called Pikachu, exited his apartment and shut the door behind him.

* * *

**ELSEWHERE**

A man walked down a cold metal hallway dressed in a black jump suit. He wore gray gloves and boots with a small "R" stitched on the chest. He reached a large set of sliding doors with another giant "R" painted red on them. He tapped in a seven digit key-code on the panel next to it. The doors granted access, allowing him inside.

The room was completely dark. He walked a few feet from the entrance, knelt down and bowed his head. The doors slid shut cutting off the only source of light. A series of red lights turned on revealing a sinister looking figure covered in the shadows.

"You wanted to see me, Boss?" the Rocket grunt humbly asked.

"I want an update on your progress!" the figure demanded.

"We're close to completion; we've just had a little hang up," he nervously responded.

"WHAT?! A little hang up?!" the Boss shouted. The Rocket henchmen quivered in fear. "Didn't the stolen information help with the progress?"

"Y-yes, sir" the Rocket stammered. "But, we still can't find a Pokémon to complete the process. We've tried so many but every trial run has proved unsuccessful. What should we do, sir?"

The figure released an agitated groan. "There is one option," an eerie smile crept across his face. "Take your men and head to _Cerulean City_. Execute plan B."

"Yes, sir. I'll dispatch our team as soon as possible," the Rocket obediently replied.

"Good—oh, and how is our prisoner?"

"He's in our brig, sir."

"Excellent, make sure he stays there" he said, giving a menacing grin. "Our plans are almost complete."

The Rocket grunt walked out of the room as fast as he could, shuddering to the insidious laughter echoing throughout the compound.

"Nothing can stand in my way now!"

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

"This isn't what you wanted…" – _All We Know, Paramore_


	2. Pressure

**  
All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 2 – **Pressure  
**

**

* * *

**

"Ash Ketchum, have you no shame?"

"Whaaa?" Ash turned around, his mouth jam-packed full of food. He was met by set of turquoise eyes glaring back at him.

"Typical, Ash. This isn't the time for you to stuff your face, you know," the redhead smirked, giving him a quick wink.

"Sorry, Misty," he apologized after swallowing. He looked down at his plate, stacked to its full capacity. He carefully placed it on a white cloth table and took a slip of water from his cup.

"I didn't get a chance to eat today; I'm starving," he said.

"What were you doing all day?" Misty asked.

"Oh you know, just regular stuff, that's all," Ash shrugged with a blanket of generality.

"Did you just get here?" Misty asked, changing the subject. "I didn't see you during the funeral service."

"I—uh, got there kinda—late. I slipped in the back," Ash stammered.

"Late?" Misty repeated.

"I know, I know," Ash threw his hands up, trying to justify his behavior. "I should've been there early or at least got there when it started. I really don't know how, I just lost track of time. I know it's something that I always do and—"

"Ash," Misty interrupted him.

"Uh, yeah?"

"I wasn't going to say all those things," she assured him.

Ash confusingly rubbed the back of his head. It seemed like everyone he knew was pointing out his usual hallmark of tardiness or absentmindedness, especially in critical times like today. Ash was almost used to it but he wasn't used to this, especially coming from Misty.

"You weren't?" he warily asked.

"No," Misty shook her head. "I'm sure you had a good reason for being late."

"Uh, sure," Ash turned away and broke their eye contact.

He lied. Ash knew the reason for being late to Professor Oak's funeral was not an honorable one. The last few weeks Ash was stressing about his application he sent in to the Pokémon League Agency. The League only selected a handful of candidates every year from a pool of thousands of qualified trainers. The rejection rate was staggering. But after three arduous weeks of waiting Ash received his acceptance letter. It was a huge weight off his shoulders.

The relief however did not last. Now Ash had to deal with an overwhelming obstacle in front of him. The Pokémon League was one of the hardiest institutions to become part of. If one was fortunate to survive basic training they had to endure advance training. Only a few trainers actually passed.

The training program for future agents was rumored to be brutal, grueling and demanded nothing less than perfection—and Ash is going tomorrow.

"I'm just really distracted right now," Ash began. "I've kinda had a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Sure," Misty responded consolingly. "Pokémon training is hard enough. I mean, trying to become an agent has to be like million times harder."

"Wow, thanks," Ash sarcastically smirked. "That means a lot, Misty."

"You know what I mean," Misty playfully knocked him on the shoulder. "What I'm trying to say is I think you'll be fine."

"You do?" Ash was stunned. Misty never made it a habit to offer any type of encouragement. A hammer to the face or a snide comment was more her style. His curiosity perked him closer.

"What makes you think so?"

"Ash, don't you remember what I told you all those years ago?" Misty asked.

"Uh—that I was lazy?"

"No, not that," she replied.

"Ignorant?"

"Noooo…" Misty impatience swelled. She took the initiative as Ash clearly didn't have the answer.

"Ash," she said softly. "You just need to give it your all. I know that good things will happen if you _keep doing your best_."

She did it again. Nobody ever explained it so simply to him before. It made sense. It worked. Ash smiled. Misty returned the favor.

"Thanks, Misty."

"You're welcome. By the way, did you get a chance to talk to Gary yet?"

"No," Ash said, realizing he should have made that a top priority. "I need to do that before I leave. Where is he?"

"I think I saw him over there," Misty said, pointing toward the other side of the room.

"Good," Ash said as he took a few last bites off his plate. "Are you leaving right now?" he asked as Misty turned in the opposite direction.

"Yeah," she gave an uneven grin. "I have to travel all the way back to Cerulean City. Being a Gym Leader has its busy schedules, you know."

"I'm sure it does," Ash teased her.

"I'll see you later."

"Okay, bye!" Ash waved.

"Oh, and Ash," Misty called from a distance. "You can't pull off that suit! Stick to your regular wardrobe!" she laughed.

"I know—" he chuckled. "I hate these things."

* * *

**THREE YEARS LATER  
**

"Ash, are you listening to me?"

"What?" Ash shook his head, trying to resurface from his thoughts. "I'm sorry Paul, what were you saying?"

"I was asking you about Gary. I'm sure you could give me some information on him that's not in his profile."

"Uh, sure I guess—"Ash said still stuck in his head.

"What were you thinking about that's more important than this anyways?" Paul said annoyed.

"Nothing, I was just letting my mind wander," he quickly answered. Ash turned his attention to Paul's inquiry. "Well, what does the League have on Gary already?"

"Not much," Paul tapped on his laptop and read the profile.

Name: _Gary Oak_  
Gender: _Male_  
Age: _25_  
Eye Color: _Black_  
Hair Color: _Brown_  
Birthplace: _Pallet Town_

"That's all? That can't be it!" Ash yelled, aiming the laptop screen to his direction.

"Well, there's his bio but that doesn't really help." Paul cleared his throat and began. "It says: _"Gary Oak registered to become a Pokémon Trainer at the age of ten and traveled through all four regions. He decided to become a Pokémon Researcher and moved to Sinnoh to conduct his research. He moved back to Pallet Town and assumed head researcher when his grandfather Professor Samuel Oak passed away three years ago."_

"Does it say anything about his research?" Ash asked.

"No, not a single file," Paul frowned.

"That doesn't seem right," Ash sighed, staring out the circle shaped window of The Pokémon League owned private jet. The white wispy clouds hung in the air evenly beside them as the plane broke them apart. Ash shifted his weight on his seat opposite from Paul. The table with the laptop stood in between them. Pikachu peacefully slept on the chair adjacent to Ash's.

"What do you mean?" Paul asked.

"I thought Gary would've published his research by now. You know, he'd get some recognition from all the wonderful things he said he was going to do."

"Why would you say that?"

"It was the last time I talked to him," Ash said trying to remember. "I was at the funeral in Pallet. He said he'd continue to carry on his family name; that he would carve out a legacy greater than Professor Oak."

"Well, maybe he couldn't cut it. Maybe it was too much for him."

"No, you're wrong," he refuted his accusation. "I've known Gary for a long time. He wouldn't just give up like that!"

"Look," Paul tried to calm him down. "I'm just saying pressure is a difficult thing to handle. Hell, living up to Professor Oak's name is enough pressure in itself. Plus, you haven't talked to the guy in years. People change over time."

"How would you know?" Ash grumbled under his breath.

"What was that, Agent Ketchum?" Paul sternly shouted.

"Nothing, sir. It was nothing," Ash mumbled formally.

"Ash," Paul sighed. "I need your expertise on his mission not your bad attitude. This is serious. I need you to keep your head in the game, is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Ash replied stoically; as if he needed to be reminded of that.

"Good. I'm going to do some paperwork. We land within the hour. We'll go to the lab when we touch down," Paul said, scribbling on a stack of papers. He turned to his laptop and continued to work on it.

Ash leaned back on his head rest, reclined his seat in an obtuse angle and patted Pikachu on the head. Ash shut his eyes and allowed his thoughts to wonder again. Paul didn't know what he was talking about. People don't change.

* * *

**ONE HOUR LATER  
**

"These steps are shorter than I remember," Ash whispered to himself. He looked up at the giant wind turbine. It was years since Ash visited Professor Oak's laboratory. The Pokémon Research lab was still the pride and centerpiece in all of Pallet Town. It basically stayed the same, except for some minor neglect on the structure and grounds.

"Hey Slowpoke, you coming?" Paul shouted from the top of the stone step path. Ash slowly complied, making his way to the top.

"May I help you gentlemen?" Officer Jenny stopped them as they approached the entrance.

"Yes, we're the agents investigating this case," Paul said arrogantly. "Please step aside," Paul entered almost knocking Officer Jenny over.

"I think he means 'Is there anyway we can be of assistance?'" Ash chimed in, poking his head in the doorway.

"Well then," Jenny said, trying composing herself. "The laboratory is this way, follow me."

"We know where it is, you may leave it to the professionals," Paul smugly waved her off as he entered the doors to the lab.

Officer Jenny growled angrily. It had been a long day. The last thing she wanted to deal with was attitude from arrogant men. Ash took the opposite approach.

"I'm sorry about that," Ash apologized. "Have you found anything yet?"

"No—our instructions of the League were to wait for the Pokémon Agents to arrive before we examined the crime scene. But if I knew they were going to send him I would have started by now!" Jenny grumbled.

"Well, thank you for waiting," Ash said embarrassed. "By the way, where's Tracey Sketchit?"

"Who?" Jenny asked.

"He's a Pokémon Watcher. He helps out at the lab."

"Oh, you mean the assistant," Jenny said placing her hands on her hips. "I'm afraid he's in pretty bad shape."

"What do you mean?" Ash asked worriedly.

"Tracey was in the lab when Gary was kidnapped. By the time we got there he was unconscious on the floor. We rushed him to the nearest hospital."

"Oh good," Ash gave a sigh of relief. "Has he said anything? Does he remember anything?"

"Last time I checked he was still asleep. You can visit him after you're done here."

"Thank you, Officer Jenny," shook her hand appreciatively.

"Ash!" Paul's muffled voice emanated from the other room. Ash smiled timidly and bid Officer Jenny farewell. Jenny turned and stormed out the room mumbling something incoherent. Ash entered into the Pokémon laboratory.

"Whoa," he exclaimed as he looked around. The room looked like it was subject to a Whirlwind attack. Tables, chairs and couches were aimlessly turned over. Various papers and books were recklessly knocked off the bookshelves and onto the floor. Different Pokémon equipment and machinery lay smashed beyond repair sparking their last few signs of life.

"Gary—" Ash whispered. "What happened to you?"

"What a dump," Paul scowled as he picked up a few stray papers.

"Well, they were definitely looking for something, that's for sure" Ash looked at the empty bookshelves. "Did you check the Pokémon storage room? They keep all the extra Pokémon in there. They're still in their Pokéballs; easy prey for thieves."

"Yup," Paul answered still reading over the crumpled papers. "All of them are safe and sound."

"So they weren't stealing Pokémon," Ash said confused. He looked at a nearby computer screen.

"How about the data from the computers? Find anything on the hard drives?"

"Most of the computers are smashed beyond repair. The ones that aren't are all wiped," Paul responded. "It's a lost cause."

"Damn it!" Ash shouted. All their leads were proving to be dead ends. Whoever committed his crime knew how to cover their tracks. There wasn't a stray piece of evidence left.

"One thing is for sure," Paul stated. "They came to steal his research. They took all the data and erased the backups. They stole the hard copies too. These papers are just basic Pokémon research from years ago." He cast them aside.

Ash frustratingly ran his hands through his hair; things were not looking optimistic. He bent down and flipped the couch back to its original orientation. A small torn piece of paper caught his eye.

"Find something?" Paul looked over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure," Ash said examining it from all angles. The small paper had various numbers written on it; the last number was halfway cut off.

Paul was not impressed. "It's nothing; just some random piece of trash."

"Maybe," Ash whispered. He put the tattered piece of paper in his pocket.

"Well, whatever was here is gone now," Paul said walking out. "This place is a dead end. We better try somewhere else. Did the officer tell you where the assistant is?"

"Tracey? Yeah, she said she would tell us after we're through here."

"Well we are," Paul dryly responded. "I'll get the information from her so I can interview him. You work with the police and see if you can find anything else."

"What? Wait a second," Ash stopped him. "I think it would be better if I talked to Tracey."

"And why is that?" Paul demanded an answer.

"I know Tracey," Ash began. "I think he'll be more open to talk if it were me. I don't want his interview to turn into an interrogation."

"Okay, Ash" Paul agreed after a brief pause. "You go to the hospital and I'll consult with the local police. But if he reveals anything important—_anything_; you report back to me first. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**A FEW HOURS LATER  
**

"Excuse me, miss?" Ash asked leaning over the nurses' station desk. "I'm looking for a friend of mine who was admitted to this hospital yesterday."

"Alright," the nurse grabbed a small clipboard and read down the list of names as she tapped her lips with her pencil. "What is his name?"

"Tracey Sketchit."

She sighed. "Okay, he's here. But, I'm afraid visiting hours are over. You'll just have to come back then."

"No, you don't understand," Ash explained. "I'm a Pokémon League Agent, I need to ask him a few questions for an investigation."

The nurses' demeanor changed immediately; she started to blush.

"Oh, an agent!--he's in room 212; right down the hall. You can take as much time as you need," she said smiling.

"Uh, thanks," Ash uncomfortably replied. That was weird. What was all that about? He followed the nurses' directions and entered the room. Ash opened the door, slipped in and softly closed it.

Tracey lay motionless on the hospital bed; his forehead was wrapped and bandaged. A few small wires from his wrist and chest ran to a small heart monitor beside the bed. The machine 'beeped' steadily to a set of rhythmic patterns. Ash took the chair next to him.

"Tracey? Tracey?"

Tracey's eyes gradually opened as he turned his head. He blinked twice and slightly sat up straight.

"Ash? Is that you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's me," Ash smiled. "It's been a while, huh?"

"I'll say," he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm here to check on you."

"Really?"

"Sure," Ash leaned forward. "I also need you to, uh—ask you a few questions regarding what happened with Gary. If you're feeling up to it," he added.

"I see—" Tracey slowly nodded. "Man, I forgot you had been accepted by the Pokémon League Agency. I can't believe you're an agent now."

"Yeah, sometimes I don't believe it myself," he chuckled.

"Where's Pikachu? Is he at your mother's house," Tracey asked.

"Yeah, Pikachu only likes to tag along on the missions when there's something dangerous to do. I left him at my Mom's house to relax. I was going to pick him up later."

"Speaking of which, I heard from your mother you passed training with flying colors. You graduated at the top of your class with highest honors."

"Yep, that was me," Ash smiled modestly.

"How'd you do it?"

"Well," Ash paused. "When I got the letter telling me I had been accepted I was anything but eager. I heard so many horror stories about the training. I was really afraid about going."

"What changed your mind?" Tracey asked.

"I guess I got the right encouragement at the right time. I always tried my best and it worked out," Ash smiled pensively.

"Who gave you the advice?"

"What?" Ash snapped out of his own head. "Uh—you know, we're getting off subject," he said waving his hand nervously. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

Tracey closed his eyes, thinking as hard as he could. "It all happened so fast. It was a normal day. I was finishing up some sketches and Gary was on the computer. Suddenly, the lights went out and a smoke bomb came through the window. The room was filling with thick black smoke; I couldn't see a thing. I was coughing and stumbling through the room when something hit me in the back of the head and I blacked out. The next thing I remember is waking up in this hospital bed."

"Anything else?"

"Nope, sorry," Tracey shook his head. "It's all a really big blur."

"Did you notice anything weird going on at the Lab lately?"

"Like what?" Tracey lobbied for more.

"Like mysterious letters in the mail or constant hang ups whenever the phone rang, something like that? Were any of the Pokémon or machines acting strange?"

"No, nothing like that," Tracey admitted.

Ash sighed. "Well, what were you guys working on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your research—what was it about?"

"I don't know," Tracey confessed.

"How could you not know about his research? You worked in that lab with him for three years!"

"Well yeah, but Gary is really paranoid about his work. He always kept it secret and secure. The interns and I were never allowed to access his files."

"That's weird," Ash frowned. "That doesn't sound like Gary. Professor Oak was always open with his research. There was nothing secretive about his work."

"That's his prerogative," Tracey speculated. "I guess nowadays people are concerned with plagiarism and theft. I guess he was right."

"So, there's nothing you can give me that will even slightly hint at his research?"

"Well, one day Gary was staying up later than usual. He forgot to put some of his papers away and I happen to briefly glance at them. It was something about Psychic Pokémon and their powers."

"Well, I guess that's something. One more thing," he reached in his pocket and pulled out the little scrap of paper. He handed it to Tracey.

"Does this look familiar at all?"

Tracey scratched his head. "No, it doesn't."

"Oh well, it was a long shot," Ash shrugged and reached for it.

Tracey retracted it out of his grasp. "Hold on. I mean, this doesn't look familiar at all. I can't imagine what this would be for."

"So it's a stray scrap from a research paper from a long time ago, big deal. The place was really messed up. Maybe it got mixed in with all the other stuff."

"No," Tracey dismissed him. "I've been an assistant at that lab for a long time. I know every research paper, folder and document in that lab like clockwork. This isn't from the lab."

Ash jumped to his feet. "Really?" he cried, taking it back. Finally, a real piece of evidence. Ash scanned the numbers written on it.

"Any idea what these numbers mean?" Ash showed it to him again.

"You've got me there," Tracey admitted. "I don't think it'll be much help, though. It could be for anything: a telephone number, a computer code, an address—or directions to the nearest Pokémon Center! Maybe if you had the whole paper but that's just a scrap."

"Maybe," Ash mumbled pacing back and forth. He started intently at the numbers, trying to unearth a piece of memory.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, just something you said gave me an idea. You mentioned directions, right?"

"Yeah," Tracey confirmed.

"Well, in advanced training we had a field exercise about directions; it was part of our wilderness survival training. They rounded up all the agents individually and put us on a plane. We'd get dropped off at some random secluded area and using just our instincts and skills we had to find our way back to civilization."

"That sounds brutal," Tracey said clutching his throbbing head.

"Tell me about it," Ash groaned as if reliving it all over again. "Remind me later to tell you the time they dropped me off in the Safari Zone in the middle of Kangaskhan mating season. I almost didn't get out of there alive."

Tracey covered his mouth with his hands, trying everything in his power to refrain from losing composure. He could still hear his muffled laughs.

"Anyways—I learned all about getting my bearings, geography, maps, directions and coordinates." Ash held up the piece of paper and smiled. He walked to a small dresser and opened the top drawer. Ash grabbed a map and unrolled it out on a nearby table.

"You think those numbers are coordinates to a location?" Tracey asked as he struggled to get out of bed.

"Possibly," Ash told him. He looked at the map – a complete diagram of the Kanto Region. The whole map was outlined with grids with numbers on the top and sides for easy reference. Ash took the first set of numbers from the paper and placed his finger from his right hand on the appropriate grid number on the top. He took his other hand and placed it on the corresponding number on the right axis of the map. Ash slowly dragged his fingers across the lines till they met.

"Where is it?" Tracey asked.

"Cerulean City."

"Cerulean City? Isn't that where Mis—"

"Yes, it is!" Ash interrupted him. "I can't believe its Cerulean City!"

"Why are you getting all worked up? Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

"No," Ash slumped back onto his chair. He sighed deeply staring into the back of his eyelids. "It's just—she's been on my mind lately, that's all."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," Tracey laughed.

Ash shot him an angry glance. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothing," Tracey chuckled, attempting to climb back onto his bed. "I guess there are things that never change."

"Look if you're going to act like this I'm going to leave," Ash blurted out, quickly gathering his things. "It's good to see that you're alright, Tracey. I'll visit you later."

"Hey, Ash?"

"Yeah?" Ash stopped in the threshold just as he was closing the door. He held it open.

"Tell her."

"Tell her what?" Ash obliviously asked.

"Tell her you've been thinking about her. It's a good thing."

Ash shook his head annoyed and shut the door. What was Tracey getting at anyways? He looked at his watch and pressed a small button. The small screen illuminated and beeped.

_"What is it? Did you find something?"_ Paul asked from the watch.

"I talked to Tracey; he mentioned Gary's research has something to do with Psychic Pokémon."

_"Aaannd—"_ Paul grew impatient.

"That's all. Gary kept his records pretty secret. There are no hard copies left."

"_Damn it! Well, is there anything else? Any other leads you found?"_

Ash stood silently.

"_Well?"_ Paul snapped.

"No—uh, nothing else to report. I've got a few things to check on and I'll meet you back at the station."

_"Fine. Over and out."_

Ash sighed in relief, switched back his wristwatch and exited the hospital doors. Ash weaved his way through the parked cars and located his motorcycle. He hopped on the seat, revved the engine and drove away; leaving a trail of smoke folding behind him.

**TO BE CONTINUED  
**

**

* * *

**

"I fear I might break, and I fear I can't take it…" – _Pressure, Paramore_


	3. Emergency

**All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 3 – **Emergency**

**

* * *

**

"Well, Pikachu that just about covers it. We should get back before someone notices we're gone."

Ash's slowed his motorcycle down to an idle and placed his foot down for support. The top-of-the-line sleek bike sputtered and coughed violently as it ran. Pikachu poked his small yellow head out from Ash's backpack. He wiggled around just enough to buy some breathing room.

The two were in Cerulean City all evening. Ash and Pikachu checked every high profile location in the city, looking for anything suspicious. First, they visited all the tourist attractions: beaches, hotels, theaters and stadiums. Not a thing. Then they squandered a few hours hitting city hall, the major's office and the large business to no avail.

"Pikaaaa, pika" the yellow rodent murmured, disappointed in his trainer.

"What?" Ash asked against his Pokémon's glaring eyes. "We've been here all night! There's nothing here! We should hurry up and get back or Paul is going to have my head!"

"Pikachupi, chu" Pikachu responded shaking his head. Pikachu knew Ash well enough to know he was acting stubborn for a reason. He was stalling. There was just one place they hadn't checked yet—and they both knew it.

"Fine—" Ash let out a large sigh. "We'll go to the Gym but I guarantee it'll be closed. No Pokémon Gym stays open this late."

Ash's submission satisfied Pikachu; he happily cooed his name and buried himself back into the backpack. Ash revved up the engine; with one quick twist of the handlebars they skid away. The street lights guided them to their destination. The small city lights winked and illuminated them as they drove like welcoming a lost traveler home. It was all very annoying to Ash Ketchum.

Ash let off the acceleration as the building with the giant Dewgong came into his sight. The motorcycle's momentum slowly carried them just outside of the front entryway. Ash turned off the engine and flipped the kickstand with his foot.

He stared intently at the sliding glass doors. Pikachu unzipped the backpack with his teeth and jumped out. Pikachu sat beside his trainer, muttering in 'Pikachu language' something about stubborn trainers and lost maturity.

Ash finally lifted his hand and knocked lightly on the glass door; too lightly, in fact. He held his breath for five seconds then thankfully released when the doors didn't open.

"Well, nobody home," Ash smiled. "Let's go Pikachu. We have to get back to Pallet."

"Pikapi, pika" Pikachu rolled his eyes.

"Okay, Okay," Ash threw up his hands in surrender after Pikachu threatened him with a Thunderbolt attack. "Look, nobody's answering. Let's just split up and check it out. I'll go left and you go right," Ash pointed to his direction.

Pikachu agreed and skipped off to the left side of the Gym. Ash tediously walked to the other side. There certainly wasn't anything suspicious or interesting going on here. Why was Pikachu so adamant on coming here in the first place? Ash stopped at a small window in the side of the gym. It was slightly open. He put his ear to the glass then tapped it slightly. The window rattled louder than he wanted it; he pressed his hand against the glass from furthering announcing his presence.

"That was smart," Ash whispered quietly.

He pried his fingers into the slight crack in the window and slid it to the right. Almost there; almost there—

WHAM!

Ash slid unconscious onto the ground. A mysterious figure stood over him.

"Oh crap!"

* * *

Ash sluggishly opened his eyes. He groaned uncomfortably and held his head. He tried to sit up but overestimated his strength and fell back. As he did his head was consumed in a small pillow. He was on a couch. Ash rolled to his side and gently sat up with more caution.

Ash knew this place. It looked familiar: Tile floors, high ceilings with aquariums everywhere. But his vision was still blurry and so were his thoughts.

"So, how's the head?" asked a voice behind him.

"Huh?" Ash cradled his head again.

"Your head, Ash—how is it?" she asked again; placing a small tray on the coffee table. On it was a teapot, two cups and a small auburn cylinder. She sat on the couch opposite of Ash's and tucked her orange bangs behind her ear.

"…Misty?" Ash finally spoke.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," she giggled. "What in the world are you doing here, Ash?"

Ash reached for the cylinder container, opened it and swallowed some Tylenol. Ash read the little plastic label. This stuff wasn't going to kick in for a while.

"I'm here on—assignment," he wearily answered.

"Really, in Cerulean City?" she asked. "That's funny, nothing ever happens here. What were you doing?"

"I'm afraid that's classified, Misty," Ash shrugged. He wasn't about to tell her his presence here wasn't authorized. A façade of confidentiality should put the question to rest; or so he thought.

She didn't buy it. "Whatever you say, Ash," Misty quietly laughed, pouring herself a cup of tea. The steam from the cup twisted and folded before disappearing in the air. Misty softly cooled her cup and took a small sip.

"I'm serious," Ash said, annoyed at her coy attitude. "I'm doing some real important business here. I was tr—" Ash winced and held his throbbing head again. His pain grew to frustration.

"Why'd you hit me on head, anyway?" Ash shouted.

"Serves you right for trying to break into my Gym," Misty wryly replied.

"I wasn't trying to break in! Pikachu and I were only checking it out. We—Pikachu!" Ash shouted, realizing he wasn't there. "Where's Pikachu?"

"Oh, Pikachu's in the back room watching TV. We already caught up with one another. I gave him some ketchup; he should be fine for an hour or so."

"Thanks," Ash sighed in relief. "But you still didn't have to knock me out."

"In my defense, I didn't hit you—I hit a figure in the shadows. How was I supposed to know it was you?"

"I guess you're right," Ash confessed. "It still hurts though."

"Of course I'm right. Maybe if you worked harder on your stealth skills you wouldn't have gotten caught," Misty giggled. Ash growled in irritation. Who did she think she was anyway?

"For your information Misty, I passed stealth training. In fact, I passed every training exercise the Pokémon League had me do _easily_," he boasted.

"Well, so much for modesty," Misty said under her breath.

"The Elite Four know it too. All the intelligence agents and instructors know I'm the best agent in the league."

"How about Brock?" Misty asked, casually mixing some honey in with her tea.

"What do you mean?" Ash asked confusingly.

"What about Brock—how does he define the 'Great and Powerful Ash Ketchum'?" Misty said in an irreverent tone.

"Brock's just an intelligence agent, Misty. He doesn't have field experience or go out on assignments," Ash brushed off her question.

"You're avoiding my question," Misty grinned. It was entertaining watching the all powerful Agent Ketchum eat his own words.

"Well—Brock has some different ideas about me," he lowered his head.

Ash's sudden glimmer of humility perked Misty's interest. She sat up in her seat, placing her cup on the table.

"Like what?"

Ash let out a long sigh. "Brock says I work too hard. He says the great agents have both, whatever that means."

"Ash, I think he means you need to have more _balance_," Misty said.

"That's exactly what Brock said!"

"Well, listen to him. He's knows you better than most people. After all, he did travel with you for all those years."

"Well, so did you," Ash protested. "Do you know me that well?"

Misty paused and looked away, hiding her blushing skin. There was no way she was going to admit that to Ash. Hell, she could barely admit that to herself. But she did know him. She knew him better than anyone. Brock always had an 'older brother' view of Ash. He was a counselor and a companion, offering him guidance and protection whenever needed. But Misty was different. She knew Ash better than he knew himself.

"I—I don't—" Misty stumbled over her words. "I think we're getting off topic!" she quickly changed the subject.

"Uh, Okay" Ash yielded. He did start to feel better. The medicine he took was working quicker than he thought. Ash poured himself a cup of tea and slurped it down. As he put down his cup he noticed a piece of paper halfway covered by the plate. Ash put his fingers on it and slid it out from underneath the tray. He flipped it around.

"Hey, this is an invitation to the Pokémon League Function in Vermillion," he exclaimed as he read it. "You were invited to it too?"

"Of course I was," Misty said partly offended. "Every Gym Leader in the Region got an invitation. I got it in the mail. Did you go, Ash?"

"Me?" Ash repeated, pointing to himself. "Nope. I was supposed to go but I didn't. I hate those things, they're so pointless! Sure, the food and the music are fine, but that's it. Every time I go to those stupid parties I have to make small chitchat with a million people I don't know. I have to dress up in a lame-o tux and make sure to dodge the people who always want me to dance. Count me out. Plus, nobody missed me."

"Yeah," Misty quietly whispered to herself.

"Did you go?"

"Uh—" Misty hesitated again. Ash was on a roll. Why was he all the sudden asking all the right questions? Misty hid her blush with her hand, pretending she had something caught in her eye.

"No," she finally said. "I didn't get a chance; I was really busy with work at the Gym. You know my sisters; they're full time actresses and models now. They left the Gym years ago."

"How is that going?—the Gym life, I mean."

Misty sighed and stretched her neck as if warming up for a triathlon. "It's okay, I guess."

"You don't seem too convinced about that."

"Hey, I love my Gym!" Misty shouted back. "I've worked long and hard to build up the Cerulean City reputation in the Kanto Region as well as the across the globe! I'm rated one of the best Water Pokémon Gyms, second only to the Sootopolis City Gym! I've gotten a lot stronger than the last time we've battled, Ash Ketchum!"

"Whoa, whoa," Ash tried to temper the enraged redhead. "I didn't mean any of that, Misty. I just meant there must be a lot of work involved, that's it!"

Misty lowered her head and apologized. "I'm sorry Ash; I didn't mean to snap at you like that. But you're right; there is a lot of work involved. I have to clean and maintenance the Gym every day. I battle dozens of trainers a week. Then there are my Pokémon who need attention, training and food. Psyduck still drives me crazy!"

"Psyduck?" Ash laughed. "Is Psyduck _still_ giving you problems, Misty?"

"Oh yeah," Misty sighed. "It's still that dopey Pokémon that I caught all those years ago and still randomly comes out of its Pokéball."

"That sounds like Psyduck," Ash chuckled. Some things never change. The small trip down memory lane made him nostalgic.

"And he never sits still!" Misty continued. "I look away for ten seconds and he disappears. He's _always_ getting himself lost!" Misty paused. "But you'd be surprised how powerful Psyduck has gotten. I can even use it in battle sometimes on a good day. It swims now and can finally use Water Gun."

"I'm glad," Ash nodded.

"I do love my job," Misty began. "But there's rarely time for myself. I don't get out much; I never have time for—" Misty hesitated.

"Time for what?" Ash vouched for more. Misty looked down; she didn't want finish her thought. But his question still hung in the air and Ash was surprisingly persistent.

"Ash I—"

The lights immediately shut off. Ash and Misty looked around. Their attention was dictated by a small rustle coming from the outside, followed by glass shattering. A small object flew into the room. Hundreds of pieces of glass littered the floor. It clanked and bounced off the tile and rolled near the table. The small dark sphere "clicked," shooting out thick black smoke slowing filling the Gym.

"ASH!"

They coughed, as the room completely filled with dark smoke. Ash covered his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and felt for Misty's hand. They held hands and started to back away from the window. Ash unattached one of his three Pokéballs on his belt and flung it in the air.

"Staraptor, go!" he yelled. In a bright flash of red, Ash's Staraptor appeared amidst the dense smoke. Ash managed to bark out commands despite the difficult surroundings.

"Whirlwind attack, now!" he shouted.

Staraptor shrieked its name, flapping its wings gracefully in the air. It twirled, forcing the smoke out of the Gym. As it cleared, six men in charcoal grey jump suits stood surrounding them. Their eyes were covered by the shadows cast by their hats.

"Team Rocket!" Ash roared. "Tell me where Gary is!"

"We don't answer to the likes of you!" one Rocket pointed at Ash. He threw a Pokéball in the air, calling a Grimer forth.

"Grymah!" It shouted.

"Grimer, Sludge attack!"

The Grimer acknowledged the command and projected a large blob of poison tar from its mouth.

"Staraptor, Gust attack!" Ash countered.

The bird Pokémon chirped and flapped its wings with amazing force. The gust blew the poison attack back to its origin.

"Now, Quick attack!" Ash shouted.

Before the Grimer could recuperate, Ash's Staraptor struck it with blinding speeds rendering the poison Pokémon unconscious. The Rocket recalled its defeated Pokémon and commanded the other Rockets. All six grabbed a Pokéball from their belts and tossed them in the air.

Six Houndooms appeared, barking and gnashing their teeth. All six rockets shouted in unison.

"Houndoom, Ember attack!"

The Houndooms barked their response and expelled a volley of flames out their mouths towards Ash's Staraptor.

"Double Team!" Ash issued the counter.

Staraptor cooed and focused its energy, producing a dozen mirages of itself. The tactic proved futile as the fire attack came from all angles and consumed every one of them. Staraptor flinched and crashed into the floor, badly burned.

"Staraptor, no!" Ash yelled, taking Staraptor's Pokéball and recalled it. Ash groaned to the smug laughs of the Rockets.

"PIKACHU!" Ash yelled at the top of his lungs. Immediately, a yellow line flashed across the room. Pikachu high jumped in the air already prepared for Ash's command.

"THUNDER!!"

Pikachu hummed his name and released its attack. Ash took Misty's hand and dove under the table. The giant surge of electrical energy filled the Gym. The Houndoom and their trainers yelled in pain and flew back into the walls. Ash and Misty resurfaced from their hiding place. Four of the six Houndooms had fainted. The last two ran for the small rodent Pokémon.

"Pikachu, watch out!" Ash commanded. Pikachu jumped out of one Bite attack but fell victim to the other. Pikachu squealed in pain, struggling to get up from the floor. Ash knew Pikachu was outnumbered. Usually Pikachu could take two Pokémon easily, but not after a Thunder attack like that. He reached for another Pokéball on his belt. Misty stepped in front of him.

"This is my Gym, Ash. I'll deal with this," Misty smiled, taking a Pokéball from her back pocket. "Now I'll show you what I've been talking about!" Misty twirled around and tossed her Pokéball in the air.

A giant penguin-like Pokémon materialized in front of her. It raised its blue metal-clad wings in the air and cackled its name.

"Whoa, you have an Empoleon, Misty? When did you get that?" Ash exclaimed.

"Guess you don't know me as well as you thought, Ash," Misty turned and winked at him. She turned back and pointed at her opponents.

"Empoleon, Bubblebeam!"

Empoleon nodded, inhaled and released a massive barrage of bubbles jetting towards the dark type Pokémon.

One yelped from the direct assault and fell to the floor, defeated. The other dodged the attack and waited for its master's next move.

"Houndoom, use Crunch!" the dog Pokémon barked in response and lunged toward Misty's Empoleon.

"Empoleon, counter with Protect!" Misty yelled.

Empoleon murmured its name and crossed its wings against its body. Focusing its power, Empoleon's entire body surrounded itself by a metal tint. The Houndoom Crunch attack hit, but proved worthless against the strong defensive move.

"Now," Misty started. "Finish it off with Ice Beam!"

It was done. All opponents, human and Pokémon were defeated. Misty smiled and recalled her victorious Pokémon. Ash ran to the lead Rocket and picked him up off the ground by his collar.

"Where's Gary?!" he shouted in his face. "Tell me where he is now!"

The lead rocket smiled under his soot stained face. "I'm not telling you anything!" he coughed.

Ash yelled in frustration and slammed him on the ground. "Tell me now! Tell me or else!"

"Or else what?" the Rocket said weakly, calling his bluff.

But Ash wasn't bluffing; he picked up the frail Rocket by the collar again and punched him in the face. The Rocket grunted in pain and fell to the floor. Misty ran up to Ash, pulling him back by the arm.

"Ash, don't!" Misty pleaded with him. "Why are you asking about Gary?"

"They have Gary!" Ash pointed to the fallen Rocket. "They kidnapped him, now tell me where he his!"

"Not like this," Misty begged. "You're better than this, Ash!"

"No," he brushed her off. "Team Rocket has been steadily growing in strength for the last three years! They steal and exploit helpless people and Pokémon and we just continue to allow it. Well, not anymore! I'm drawing the line here!"

Misty walked away. This wasn't the Ash she remembered. Another Rocket became conscious again. He threw another Pokéball, releasing a Ninjask. It buzzed and hovered toward Misty.

"A—BUG!" Misty screamed.

"Why did you attack me? What do you want from me?" Ash barked in the lead Rocket's face. This time he would answer his question.

"You fool, we didn't come here for you," he snickered.

"What?" Ash turned to Misty. She stood petrified as the Ninjask hovered a few feet in front of her.

"Misty?"

"Ninjask, Shadow Ball!" the other Rocket commanded.

"No!" Ash dropped the Lead Rocket and ran as fast as he could. He jumped between her and the Shadow Ball attack just as it was about to hit.

"ASH!"

* * *

"No!" Ash reached for the air, grabbing nothing. He frantically looked left then to his right. A serious of machines beside him clamored loudly when the wires attached to him were ripped away from his sudden movement. A brown haired nurse ran into the room after hearing the noises.

"Mr. Ketchum, you're awake!" she marveled, trying to ease him back into his hospital bed. She reattached the wires and tape causing the machines to return to a normal rhythm.

"What's going on? Where am I?" Ash yelled.

"Calm down," the nurse said. "You're in the Cerulean City Hospital. You're fine; the paramedics brought you in a few hours ago!"

"Hours?" Ash asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He pondered hard, the last thing Ash could remember was a stubborn Rocket, a Ninjask and...

"Misty? Pikachu?" he shouted.

"They're fine," a voice replied calmly. Paul slowly rose from a chair in the corner in the room and walked to Ash's bed. "She and Pikachu are a few rooms down the hall for treatment; they've got a few bumps and bruises. All your Pokémon are getting treatment as well. All and all they're going to be okay, which is more than I can say for you."

"What? I'll be fine," he assured him. "I've gone through worse."

Paul made and fist and slammed it on a table next to them. "Damn it, Ash! I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about your behavior!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean all the crap you pulled tonight! Do we really need to go over the list? Well, let's see: You disobeyed direct orders; you withheld sensitive information from your superior officer; engaged in a Pokémon battle that destroyed half of the Cerulean City Gym; one of the Gym Leader's Pokémon was stolen _and_ you let Team Rocket get away!"

Ash sunk his head; he had no defense from that.

"I knew this would happen; I just knew it!" Paul sneered. "You let your emotions get the better of you. You compromised the mission and endangered everyone in the process!"

"I'm sorry," Ash began to explain. "I didn't think tha—"

"No, you didn't think, Ash!" Paul interrupted him. "How am I supposed to explain this to the council? What were you trying to do?"

Ash looked down, not saying a word. He remained in deep thought as if deciphering a puzzle. He finally looked up.

"What Pokémon was stolen?"

"WHAT? Ash, are you even listening to me?" Paul shouted.

"Yes, I know I screwed up but I want to know. What Pokémon was taken?"

Paul decided to entertain his questions—for now. "It was her Psyduck; they took her Psyduck."

"Psyduck? Psyduck is a Psychic Pokémon, right?" Ash exclaimed.

"This isn't the time to be playing Pokémon twenty questions, Ash!" Paul snapped back.

"Team Rocket went after Gary's research that centered on Psychic Pokémon, right? Then two days after they steal it, Team Rocket invades the Cerulean City Gym and steals a Psychic Pokémon! That can't be just coincidence!"

"Is that why they took my Psyduck?" a voice asked. Misty stood in the threshold and walked towards the opposite side of the bed.

"It looks that way," Paul said. "But that doesn't tell us where they are now."

"Actually, it does," Misty corrected him.

"What?!" the two boys turned.

"Ash, remember I told you how Psyduck kept on running away?"

"Yeah," Ash replied.

"Well, to fix that I put a tracker on him and synced it up to my watch. Now, whenever I lose track of him I could just—"

"Find him using your watch!" Ash smiled. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Hey, don't rush me!" Misty shouted, pressing a few buttons on her wrist watch. The small screen turned on and beeped.

"Well?" Paul awaited the verdict.

"It's reading twenty kilometers south of here."

"Where's that?" Ash asked.

"Saffron," Paul quietly answered him. He walked to his chair and grabbed his bag. He flung it over his shoulders and opened his hand.

"Misty, do you mind if I borrowed that?"

"Yeah, sure," Misty said, unlocking the watch and handed it to him.

Paul nodded and wrapped it around his wrist. "I'm going to Saffron City. With any luck, Psyduck will lead us directly to Team Rocket's base of operations."

"Great—I'm going with you!" Ash said sliding out of his bed.

"You're not going anywhere," Paul immediately stopped him. "You're staying here, indefinitely."

"What are you talking about?"

"Agent Ash Satoshi Ketchum," Paul said formally. "You are hereby suspended from your duties until further notice for insubordination and conduct detrimental to the mission. You are ordered to remain her in Cerulean City until I return."

"You can't do that!" Ash yelled.

"The hell I can't!" Paul replied angrily. "I just talked to Lance; he gave me permission to suspend you! The League will deal with you later after the mission is settled. I suggest you start thinking about what you're going to say to the council."

Paul gave a deep sigh and walked out of the room. Ash remained silent and sunk back onto the bed. A long awkward permeated between them. Misty cautiously peered at him, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry, Ash," she uttered softly. He didn't respond.

Misty reached for his arm. "I know things look bad now Ash, b—" Ash pulled his arm away from her sympathy.

"I don't need your pity, Misty!" he shouted.

"Ash, I wasn't—"

"I can take care of myself! I'm not a kid anymore!"

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you Ash!"

"Well don't," Ash turned his head away from her. "Just leave me alone; I don't need your help! Why do you even care, anyway?! You never cared!"

"Ash—" Misty pleaded.

"Get out of here!"

"Fine!" Misty exploded. "Just sit there moping, you big baby!" She stormed out of the room. "And I don't care about you, Ash Ketchum! How could anymore care about a selfish jerk like you!"

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

Misty tore down the hallway of the hospital in tears. "I don't care," she sobbed to herself. "How could anyone care about him?" she wiped the tears flowing from her eyes. "I never cared about him! Never!"

* * *

**  
SIX MONTHS AGO**

"Well—one of our agents was scheduled to say a few words, but since he's not here I guess I'll fill in," Lance smiled nervously behind the microphone. "I would like to thank all of you for coming. Special thanks to the city of Vermillion for hosting this gathering for us. The Pokémon League appreciates all your generous donations and support."

The audience applauded and cheered.

Lance cleared his throat and continued. "These last few years have been a challenging time in Kanto. Organized crime has steadily increased and because of that we've demanded so much from you Gym Leaders and Researchers. But seeing all of you here really strengthens us. So, drink up and enjoy your night. Thank you!"

Lance walked off the stage accompanied by another wave of thunderous applause. The music resumed and the attendees went on with their evening.

Misty sighed heavily, supporting her chin with her fist. Her elbow was on a circular table, covered in a red satin cloth. She looked at her plate; she had barely touched her food. She toyed with the thin black straw in her drink; the halfway melted ice cubes spun and twisted in the tall glass.

She was bored. She was the only one at the table; everyone else left to mingle in the crowds or dance with their escorts. Misty smirked, regretting her decision to come to this event. Sure, she loved to dress up (a busy Gym Leader rarely gets the chance) but it proved to be small consolation as the night progressed. She scanned the extravagant ballroom hall, but didn't find what she was looking for.

Reaching in her purse, Misty pulled out a small piece of paper and pen. She sighed deeply and started to write. She held it up and read it over and over. A small tear fell from the corner of her eye.

"Hey, there's the life of the party," a voice said.

"What?" Misty asked, crumpling the paper in her hand.

"Hi Misty—how are ya?" Brock smiled.

Misty was impressed; even Brock dressed up for the function. He wore a clean tuxedo fitting perfectly to his build. His wardrobe harmonized flawlessly, from his handkerchief tucked neatly into his front jacket pocket to his shiny black shoes.

"Well, you sure clean up nice," Misty smirked. "I'm doing great, can't you tell?" she said sarcastically.

Brock laughed. As soon as he did two beautiful girls walked up behind him, each taking an arm. One leaned her pretty little head on Brock's shoulder.

"Brock," she complained. "You said you were going to dance with me tonight."

"Yeah, you promised us!" the other chipped in.

"Alright, alright ladies," Brock said, sporting an enormous smile. "I'll catch up with you later. Why don't you two get a few drinks at the bar?"

The suggestion appeased both girls as they darted away eager to drink their body weight. Misty shook her head and laughed.

"You're pathetic," she giggled.

"What?"

"Brock, I know you're a 'self described ladies man,' but don't you think bringing two dates is a little tacky?"

"Oh, no you don't understand," Brock attempted to explain. "The one on the right is my date. The other one was for—someone else who didn't show."

"I see."

"So, why don't you join the party like everyone else?" Brock asked, panning to the crowds.

"Oh, I think I've had enough partying to last me for a while," Misty cynically replied, getting up from her chair.

"Come on, I'll save a dance for ya," Brock extended his hand, trying to persuade her.

"Thanks friend," Misty looped her purse around her shoulder. "But I'm just going to call it a night. Bye."

Brock frowned and walked away. He turned back before Misty left her table.

"Misty—I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry he's not here."

Misty held her breath. Without saying a word, she made her way through the joyous crowds and exited. Misty looked at the piece of paper still collapsed in her palm and tossed it in a garbage bin and left—alone.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**

* * *

**

"I've seen love die way too many times when it deserves to be alive…" – _Emergency, Paramore_


	4. Let This Go

**All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 4** - Let This Go**

* * *

Paul lowered his binoculars. He scanned his target as a whole: A large white unmarked building in the middle of Saffron City. With the exception of razor wire fencing the building was pretty unspectacular. No one would've suspected this to be the main headquarters of a dangerous group involved in organized crime. They hide in plain sight.

Paul looked at the watch he obtained from Misty. There's no doubt the signal came from the building—Psyduck must be there; as well as Team Rocket. Paul was across the street on the roof of a higher building. He had been there for an hour observing its behavior. Mysterious unmarked vans came in and out of the building, sentries made their rounds at the perimeter every ten minutes and he memorized the sweeps of the surveillance cameras.

His vigilance paid off. He found a flaw: the roof. No guards patrolled the roof and there was only one small camera. It was his best bet to get inside.

Paul unhooked a Pokéball from his belt and threw it skyward.

"Honchkrow, go!" The large crow-like Pokémon landed on the building's brim and squawked its name. Paul grabbed Honchkrow's talons, allowing the bird to lift him off the roof. With the aid of his dark Pokémon, Paul flew across and landed on the Rocket's roof. He recalled his Pokémon silently. The agent quickly ducked behind a large air conditioning unit, avoiding the sweep of the camera. Beside him was an opening to a vent. Paul used a small laser obtained from his pocket to cut through and wiggled his way inside. The vent was just large enough to crawl through.

The agent inched his way through. In this way, he could gain access to any room in the building, but he knew where to go. Team Rocket always establish their command level second to the top floor. He didn't have far to go.

Crawling his way through the vent infrastructure, he looked through the thin razor like vent openings to every room. Finally, he found an aperture big enough for him. Paul unhooked the opening and crawled out. To his luck, a stack of boxes and crates covered his presence.

It was a large room. Paul glanced over the boxes to get his bearings. He slouched back against them and sighed. Not a good sign.

There were dozens of Rockets; he counted at least seventy and this was only one floor. He couldn't do this by himself; he needed backup. Paul looked at his wristwatch and tapped a few buttons. The screen read static.

"Damn," Paul whispered to himself. League Headquarters was out of his communicator's range. He couldn't request backup or contact the agency by himself. Unless…

Paul pressed another button on his watch. The screen buzzed with static again with three words blinking across: _SEARCHING FOR SIGNAL_

"Come on, come on..."

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

"Ash, are you ready yet?"

"Hold your Horseas, Mom!" Ash called back.

"We were supposed to leave for the funeral fifteen minutes ago!" Delia shouted; her voice muffled from behind Ash's door to his room.

Ash frowned as he looked into the mirror; he had been trying get his tie right for fifteen minutes. He never could get them the way he wanted. Ash quickly tied it in an uneven double knot loop and pushed it up crookedly to his collar. Good enough for Ash.

"I'll be out in a bit!" Ash yelled back. He slipped on a pair of black cotton socks and put on his newly shined shoes Delia had bought him.

There was a quiet knock on the door; Ash's mom slightly pushed it open to check on her son's progress. Ash rapidly tucked in his dress shirt in his black suit pants and threw on his matching jacket. He stood before his mother.

Delia giggled slightly. Only her son could look slovenly in a new suit. He didn't even do his hair yet. She walked over to him and fixed his collar and belt. Ash rolled his eyes; sons never outgrow the care of their mother, do they?

"Ash, hold still," she said, wiping away a smudge on her son's cheek. She licked her handkerchief and dug it into his face.

"Mah-um!" Ash complained. "This is ridiculous! I look ridiculous!"

"Nonsense," Delia brushed off her son's concern. "You look fine. Besides, I'm not letting my son attend a funeral in jeans and a regular shirt. What would people say?"

"They'd probably say 'his mother must have loved him for not forcing him to dress up like this,'" Ash sarcastically muttered.

"Ash, do you not want to go?" Delia sincerely asked.

"No, that's not it," Ash shook his head. "It's just, I've got a lot on my mind lately."

"Oh, you mean this?" Delia walked to Ash desk and waved his acceptance letter in her hand. "I'm so proud you got accepted to the League, dear. But I thought you were excited to go."

"I am excited," Ash assured her. "But there's a lot at stake here. The Pokémon League Agency is a big deal. I'm not sure I'm ready for it," Ash sunk back on his bed.

"We can't think about that right now, dear," Delia said, joining Ash on the bed. "Right now, we have an obligation to Professor Oak. We need to be there for the family, for Gary."

"Yeah, for Gary…" Ash trailed off.

"Just for today, forget all about that stuff," she advised. "Let's just pay our respects to our dear friend. Friends are important, honey."

"I know that, Mom," Ash laughed.

"I know you do," she smiled. "But being a good friend means thinking less about you and more about them. When they're in need you need to _be there for them_."

"Yeah," Ash agreed.

"Come on, we have a funeral to go to," Delia said as she rose from the bed. "Which we are now late for!" She shouted as she glanced at her watch.

"Whoa!" Ash shouted. The two bolted out of the room; Ash shut the door behind him.

* * *

**THREE YEARS LATER**

_Beep_

"Wha?" Ash lifted his head from his pillow, torn from his wandering thoughts. Nobody was in the room with him. He looked around his hospital room searching for the sound's origin.

_Beep_

It was coming from his wristwatch. Ash hoped nobody had just witnessed his display of ignorance and pressed on a small button.

"H-hello?"

_"Ash?"_ a voice spoke.

"Paul? Is that you?" he asked.

_"Of course it's me, Ash!"_ Paul yelled from the watch, almost blowing out the small speakers. _"Who else would it be? Listen, I have some orders for you."_

"Orders?" Ash confusingly repeated. "For me? But I thought I was suspended."

_"You are—but I don't have a choice. Listen, I've infiltrated Team Rocket's base. I'm deep inside their headquarters."_

"WHAT? YOU ARE? Did you find Gary yet?"

_"Shhh,"_ Paul sneered. _"Lower your voice, will ya? I don't want to give away my position. I haven't made contact with Gary or that scum Giovanni. Look, we've underestimated their strength. I'm way in over my head. They've got a whole battalion of Rockets down here. My communication device won't reach Headquarters. I need you to send a message to the League to send backup. I'll hold my position until they arrive."_

"Wait, I'll be your backup!"

_"Look, we don't have time to argue, this is serious! Just get the word out and hur—"_

_MESSAGE TERMINATED_

Ash repeatedly tapped on his watch, trying to regain the signal. He never lost it. Everything was fine on his end.

"Paul?"

Nothing but static.

"Oh, crap!" Ash shouted as he ran to the video phone mounted on one of the walls. Ash pressed the button. The dial tone hummed, as the video screen read static waiting for the numbers to be pressed. Ash's hand hovered over the keypad. He knew the number to call—why was this so hard?

A battle ensued inside Ash Ketchum. His commanding officer gave him direct orders and should be followed promptly and directly. He _knew_ what to do. He _knew_ the orders. All he had to do is make the call and the League would send a whole team of agents to swoop in and save the day.

But this wasn't their fight. It wasn't Paul's or the Elite Four's—it was his. This is his mission; Gary is his friend—friends are supposed to be there for one another in times of need. It was his obligation; his responsibility. No one could take this from him.

"I can do this," he whispered to himself. "I don't care what anything else thinks, I can do this!"

Ash turned off the video phone. With no hesitation he walked out of the room and down the hall.

* * *

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Misty shouted. She furiously pressed the button to the vending machine over and over.

"Come on!" She slammed her fists against the glass. It vibrated slightly but refused to concede. The vending machine took the dollar but did not give her the soda. Misty sighed and gave up. She walked back to the long couch in the hospital's ground floor lobby. She took her place on the sofa, alone. Misty lowered her head; her orange bangs covered her eyes.

"Pikachupi?"

"Huh?" Misty looked up. A pair of small shiny black eyes curiously started back at her. Pikachu titled his head to one side.

"Oh, hey Pikachu," Misty greeted him. "How are you feeling?"

"Pi, pichu" Pikachu responded happily with a tilt of his ear.

"That's good to hear," she smiled softly.

Pikachu frowned, sensing the despondent inflection in her voice. He jumped on the couch and sat beside her consolingly.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," she said patting Pikachu on the head.

"Pikapi?" he asked.

"It's that trainer of yours," Misty softly began. "Sure, he's gotten taller and more powerful as a trainer—but he's still the immature kid he's always been. I can't believe I thought he would change."

"Chu—" Pikachu tenderly responded.

"Did you know this is the second time I did this? Yeah, it was about six months ago in Vermillion City. The Pokémon League was throwing this huge fund raiser. It was a pretty big deal. The whole thing was black tie, dinner and a live band; the whole bit. I got my invitation in the mail a few weeks before. It said Ash was giving the ending keynote speech. Only responsible agents were given this honor, right?"

Pikachu nodded.

"Wrong!" Misty shouted. "Responsibility was never part of Ash's vocabulary. I went thinking he had grown up but he didn't even show! I guess I just hoped after he accomplished all his dreams he'd finally realize…"

Misty stopped. She didn't want to go there. A small tear forged itself in the corner of her eye. It slid down the side of her delicate face outlining her cheek bones in a thin trail. Taking her palm, she slowly wiped it away. "Shows how much I know, huh?" Misty said.

"Know what?" Ash asked, walking up to them.

"ASH?" Misty yelled, blushing from embarrassment. Ash looked at her confused.

Misty's embarrassment quickly turned to anger. "How long have you been standing there?!" she demanded.

"What are you talking about? I just got here, Misty," he confessed.

"Well, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that," Misty grumbled. "What are you doing down here anyways; aren't you suppose to be in bed?"

"Uh—" Ash rubbed the back of his head. "The d-doctor gave me a clean bill of health; he said I could go."

"Really?" Misty asked, folding her arms suspiciously. Something was up with this boy. "I thought Paul said you had to say here?"

"Well," Ash hesitated. "Change of plans. I'm back on the mission."

"Just like that?" Misty asked skeptically.

"Just like that," Ash shrugged, repeated her words.

Misty lifted an eyebrow; she didn't buy it. "Okay, I've only known Paul for a few hours but he doesn't seem like the kind of guy that just changes his mind."

"Oh really?" Ash asked, annoyed.

"He's more the type that'll assign you to scrubbing toilets after your suspension."

"Well you're wrong Miss 'Know it all', everything's good."

"What are you trying to pull, Ash?" Misty demanded. She stared deep into Ash's eyes. He trembled nervously under the fiery redhead's glare and took a few steps backward. He hated how much she could see through him. Leave it to Misty to maliciously use it to her advantage. He broke.

"Fine!" Ash shouted. "I'm leaving for Saffron City on my own! I'm disobeying direct orders again! Happy?!"

"I just want what's best for you, Ash!" Misty pleaded with the boy.

"Nobody thinks I can do this! I can do this, I know I can!" Ash yelled. "The League doesn't, Paul doesn't—I don't even think Brock does!"

Ash turned away. He lowered his head and whispered carefully. "I need you to believe in me. Why can't you just believe in me, Misty? You've done it before; why won't you do it now?" Ash begged.

"What do you mean?" Misty blushed, looking away from him.

He faced her. "Three years ago at Professor Oak's funeral. You told me to 'keep doing my best.' You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Now look at me," Ash took a step back, unfolding his arms. "I'm a Pokémon League Agent now and a powerful Pokémon trainer with powerful Pokémon. I graduated at the top of my class and have proven myself over and over. What more do I need to do?"

"Ash," Misty began, almost on the verge of tears. "Sometimes, _being the best isn't enough_. Sometimes—it's not what's needed."

"I don't understand," Ash muttered despondently.

"I know," she whispered. "I just—don't want you to get hurt, Ash."

"Fine," Ash turned to Pikachu, a bystander of their conflict. He extended his hand to his small friend. "You're with me, right buddy?"

"Pikapi!" Pikachu shouted loyally. He jumped and ran up Ash's arm and sat on his shoulder. Ash looked at Misty one last time and headed towards the hospital exit, leaving her alone.

The doors to the hospital opened then automatically closed. Misty rigidly stood in the middle of the lobby not speaking a word. She gazed into the shiny tile floor; her eyes glared back at her. Stupid Ash and his immaturity. What was it going to accomplish anyway?

"Damn it," Misty grumbled. She ran towards the exit as if an undeniable magnetism was all that separated them.

Ash unzipped his backpack, allowing Pikachu to leap inside and flung it back around his shoulders. He jumped on his motorcycle, pressed the starter and revved the engine. It roared loudly then settled into a low purr. The bike suddenly dipped lower.

"What are you doing here?" Ash asked as Misty climbed on behind him.

"Listen, I'm just here to make sure you don't get yourself killed," Misty growled. "Don't read anything into this, Ash. I'm going to get my Psyduck back. Plus, you need me on this mission!"

"What?" Ash refused an ounce of reliance.

"You only have Pikachu plus three other Pokémon with you. Were you planning on facing off against Team Rocket entirely by yourself? If we combine our strength we might have a better chance to beat them."

Misty slid closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Ash immediately straightened his back, unprepared for her action. He felt her cheek rest close to his shoulder.

"I thought you said 'you didn't care'?" Ash teased.

"Shut up and drive you idiot," Misty countered. "Let's do this."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Ash grinned; he squeezed hard on the accelerator. In an instant, the two were gone leaving nothing behind them.

* * *

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

"Ash, are you sure this is the right place?" Misty asked. She placed her hand on the edge of a large skyscraper. She peered at the building located directly south of their location.

"This was Paul's last known coordinates," Ash told her, looking at his watch. "This has to be the Team Rocket's headquarters."

Together they stood on the roof. The large building towered in the pale moonlight. Ash and Misty leaned against the brim as a cool breeze reached them. Misty rubbed her shoulders for warmth.

"How are we going to get in there?" Misty exhaled deeply. She was having second thoughts. Reconnaissance and spying isn't necessarily part of a Gym Leaders' job description.

"Right there," Ash pointed.

"Where?" Misty asked moving closer, trying to follow the imaginary line from his finger.

"The roof," Ash smiled. "Look, there's very little surveillance up there. We've been here fifteen minutes and no one has patrolled there."

Misty glanced down the building; ten stories away from the ground. The cars looked like insects. She suddenly was very aware of the huge gap between their location and their destination. "And how are we going to get on that roof exactly?" Misty swallowed nervously.

Pikachu poked his nose over the concrete edge. He nervously echoed Misty's concern. "Pikaaa," he mumbled uneasily.

"No problem, guys. I've got a secret weapon," Ash grinned, unlatching a Pokéball from his belt. He enlarged it and tossed it in the air.

"Bulbasaur, go!"

"Bulbasaur!" Misty smiled, kneeling beside the grass type Pokémon. She patted him on his head.

"Sauurr!" Bulbasaur croaked, happy to see another friendly face.

"I can't believe you still have Bulbasaur!" Misty turned to Ash. "It's been forever since I've seen him."

"Yep, Bulbasaur and I will be buddies forever. He's gonna help us get to that roof," Ash said. "Bulbasaur, use your Vine Whip attack!"

Bulbasaur bellowed his name and shot out two long green vines from his body. The vine attack reached all the way to the other roof and wrapped around a long antenna.

"Whoa," Misty said, amazed from the impressive special attack. "Ash, I didn't know a Bulbasaur's vines could reach so far."

"Normally they can't," Ash began, slipping off the belt from his waist. "But the stronger the grass type Pokémon is, the longer and more powerful their vine attack is."

Ash looped his belt around the vines and jumped on the edge of the building. Pikachu jumped into Ash's backpack. He turned back to Misty.

"You coming'?"

"I think I'll get there my own way," Misty waved off his invitation; the thought of a ten story plunge still lingered in her mind.

"Oh, I see what's going on—you're scared."

"Scared?" Misty angrily repeated. Her eyebrow twitched. "How about I kick you off that ledge Ash Ketchum, then we'll see who's scared."

"Touché," Ash said sarcastically, turning back to the edge of the building.

"Chuuuu!" Pikachu's muffled remark came from inside Ash's backpack.

"Plus," Misty began lightly, "I have my own secret weapon to get to the other side."

"Suit yourself," Ash shrugged. He simulated a few practice leaps then jumped off. Using the belt on Bulbasaur's vines, he quickly slid from one building to the next. Ash let go just at the right time and perfectly flipped on the roof of the Rocket building. He pulled out his Pokéball and recalled Bulbasaur.

Pikachu's head popped out of Ash's backpack. "Well, buddy—guess we'll have to wait here for Misty."

"What took you so long, Ash?"

"WHA?" Ash whipped his head around. There was Misty, leaning against the ledge sporting an enormous grin. She winked at Ash amusingly.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"Because of my secret weapon," Misty said, turning to her Pokémon.

"Sloowww!" the pink hermit crap Pokémon hummed.

"Wow, I didn't you had a Slowbro, Misty?" This girl was just full of surprises.

"Yep," Misty said smiling, twirling her Pokéball on one finger. "Slowbro may look dopey but is a real powerhouse. I taught it Teleport a few months ago. Comes in handy when you're, you know--spelunking or roof hopping," Misty laughed as she recalled her Pokémon.

"So you're saying I could have been safely transported here but you let me swing across two ten story buildings?"

Misty laughed. "Serves you right for not listening to me." She went on: "Plus, maybe—"

"Shh!" Ash ducked under the large air conditioning unit, pulling Misty down with her by the wrist. Unprepared, Misty fell on her end.

"Ash, what's the matter with you?" Misty demanded, rubbing her lower back. He placed his finger across his lips then pointed upward. Misty remained silent, inaudibly gesturing her confusion.

"Hold on, Misty," Ash softly said.

"Why are we speaking so quietly?" Misty leaned in and whispered into Ash's ear.

"The camera was about to scan over our way," he said lightly. "We have to find a way to get inside."

"Ash, that thing is too far away to pick up us talking. Any other bright ideas, Agent Ketchum?" Misty peered over their cover briefly. She ducked back before the small camera caught her.

"Hey look," Ash pointed beside them. "An opening to the ventilation system. That's perfect."

"Doesn't look perfect to me," Misty admitted. "The whole cover has been cut off."

"Looks like this is where Paul got inside."

"How do you know that?" Misty asked, almost climbing over Ash to gain a better look.

"You see the laser cut marks? That's Paul's handiwork. He knew this was the most vulnerable spot just like I do."

"So let me get this straight," Misty began, placing her hand under her chin. "We're here to on a rescue mission—and you want to take the same route that got someone else caught, is that right?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Ash vouched for more.

"Fine—lead the way," Misty extended her arm.

"Nope, this is as far as you go," Ash put up his hand; Misty almost plunged her face into it. She twitched her nose and crossed her arms.

"What do you mean? I thought we went over this. You're not going in there without me!" Misty insisted.

"I am," Ash started. "This is my fight, Misty. I need to do this on my own."

"The hell you do," she retorted. "I'm going with you!"

"Look," Ash said, trying to reason with her. "I'm still an agent. I have training in this kind of thing. I should have never allowed you to get into harms way. Just stay here and wait. I won't be long."

"Why won't you let me help you, Ash?" Misty pleaded with the boy.

Ash exhaled deeply. He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair. It wasn't like he didn't trust her. He trusted her implicitly; more than he trusted himself. But her going down into that vent with him was out of the question. Ash trained in many simulations and exercises before—but this is real life. Anything could happen here. Something inside made him sick to that fact. The unpredictability and the danger of going down into the heart of the enemy, into the depths of Team Rocket weighed heavily that Misty was right along with him. He couldn't lose her, not like he lost Gary.

"Misty, I--," Ash stammered. It was impossible to say.

"Ash?"

"How about you wait twenty minutes for me. If I don't contact you or come out you can back me up."

"Ten," Misty countered.

"Fifteen," Ash shot back.

"Okay," Misty finally agreed. "_I'll wait for you_."

Ash took off his backpack and unzipped it fully. Pikachu jumped out and breathed in the cool fresh night air. "Chaa!" Pikachu exhaled deeply. He shot a small glare at his trainer. He knew Ash's memory wasn't his strong suit but how could he leave him in that stinky backpack?

"Let's go, Pikachu," Ash said. Pikachu did a small salute and jumped into the small vent opening. Ash sat on the edge of the opening, his legs dangling inside. He looked briefly into the darkness then to the wonderful girl he was leaving behind.

"You know, Misty--in all the commotion I didn't get a chance to apologize."

"For what?"

"For yelling at you and saying all those things back at the hospital. I'm sorry."

Misty smiled. "I know, thank you."

Ash nodded slowly and went inside. Using his elbows, Ash crawled his way through with Pikachu leading the way.

"Pikachu, use that nose of yours to find Paul," Ash whispered. Even a small whispered slightly echoed down the vent. Ash made a mental note to stick to gestures and facial expressions.

Pikachu nodded and shut his eyes. His little nose wiggled up and down trying to obtain his direction. Ash waited patiently. Pikachu opened his eyes and winked at Ash, using his tail to motion him to follow. Ash smiled; Pikachu always came through.

The two systematically worked their way through the ventilation ductwork. In a confined space with no visual land markers Ash felt he was going in circles. Time escaped his perception as well. He couldn't tell if he was in there for a few minutes or a few hours. But Pikachu stopped—and so did he.

"This it?" Ash whispered softly, looking through the razor grid openings of the vent aperture beneath them. Pikachu bobbed his head in response. Ash squint his eyes; the whole room was dark and completely silent.

"Well, here goes nothing," Ash nervously gulped.

Ash tried his best to sit up in the cramped space. Using his foot, he broke the vent opening and jumped through. Ash landed at the same time the metal square cover hit the floor, clanking against the ground. Pikachu landed to his right, electricity sparking from his cheeks. Ash unhooked another Pokéball from his belt, ready for battle.

Nothing. The room was completely dark. The only small light came from Pikachu. Ash turned 360 degrees; something was wrong.

"There's something not right here, Pikachu," Ash said, still gripping his Pokéball firmly in his right palm. Pikachu growled as it stared deep into the darkness. His electrical energy intensified and surrounded himself with a bright yellow hue. Something was there. Something was in the room with them.

"What do you see, Pikachu? What's in there?"

A series of dim red lights slowly turned on enveloping the whole room with a red tint. A dark figure revealed itself before Ash Ketchum on the other side of the room. The figure's eyes remained in the shadows. An eerie smirk crawled across his face.

"Giovanni!" Ash shouted angrily.

"Good evening, Agent Ketchum," the figure calmly unmatched his intensity. "I'm glad you could join us."

"Us?" Ash repeated.

The figure sneered. With a snap of his fingers, another bright light turned on to right of Ash. An unconscious Paul was revealed, shackled to the wall. His head hung low, covered in bruises and cuts; his clothes torn and frayed.

"Paul!" Ash gasped.

"Pika!" Pikachu shared his concern.

"I was disappointed when the League sent this fool to defeat us. I was really hoping they would send you, Ash my friend."

Ash winced, disgusted at the thought. "I'm not your friend!"

"Oh, but we are," the dark figure stepped from the shadows. His spiky brown hair shined in the haunting light.

"GARY?" Ash shouted.

"That's right, Ash—it's me," Gary laughed menacingly. As soon as he did, another light turned on revealing an older man shackled to the opposite wall. This face was scared and beaten as well.

"Giovanni?" Ash whispered. "I don't understand!"

"Ah, Ash," Gary began. "Always one step behind. Are you barely figuring all this out now?"

"What's the hell is going on here?" Ash demanded.

"Just like old times," Gary chuckled. "Do I need to spell things out for you, Ashy boy? I'm the new leader of Team Rocket, the new Team Rocket; the one that's going to take over the Pokémon League and all of Kanto!"

Ash could not speak. He could not breathe.

"I've been working with them secretly for the last three years, steadily building my research and science experiments. I've been working against Giovanni's back too. The poor fool didn't realize it till it was too late."

"But, you disappeared!" Ash managed to speak. "You were kidnapped!"

"I faked the whole thing!" Gary laughed. "I couldn't continue living a double life anymore; people were starting to get suspicious. I was hoping I was going to be pronounced dead after the investigation but you just spoiled my fun."

"Stop! I've heard enough!" Ash screamed at the top of his lungs. "Pikachu, Thunderbolt with all you've got!!"

"PIKA!" Pikachu shouted and ran towards Gary, electricity waving violently from his body.

Gary remained unimpressed. "I don't think so," he smiled. He took a metal headset from his pocket and attached it to the crown of his head. He flicked on a small switch and it powered on.

"Pikachu!" Gary ordered. "Stop!"

Pikachu stopped dead in its tracks.

"Pikachu, what's the matter?" Ash shouted.

"Now Pikachu, give Ash your best Thunderbolt attack!" Gary commanded.

Pikachu grind his teeth; trying everything within his being to stop. But he couldn't. His body forced him to turn and face Ash. A massive electric attack released and shot toward him.

Ash dove out of the way but was caught in the wake of the powerful attack. He struggled to regain his balance.

"Pikachu, no!"

"Handy little device, isn't it?" Gary laughed, pointing to his head. "You can thank your girlfriend Misty and her Psyduck for me. We wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for them."

"What's wrong with you, Pikachu?" Ash pleaded with his Pokémon.

"My research revolved mainly around Psychic Pokémon," Gary began. "There are so many properties and aspects of Psychic attacks that have yet to be unlocked. But I've found their potential. Using Psyduck's powerful psychic waves, we boost and manipulate its energy through a device I invented and channel that energy into this headset."

Gary laughed ominously. "I have the sole ability to control Pokémon and humans!"

"Humans?"

"Well, no," Gary admitted. "It's not that powerful, yet. I can however use it to read the minds of humans. That's how I knew about your feelings for that scrawny girl."

"But," Ash stammered. "Gary how could you do this? You're betraying the Pokémon League and the whole Kanto Region! You've turned your back on everything it stands for!"

"NO! You're wrong!" Gary angrily screamed. "The Pokémon League turned their back on me! The Elite Four demanded too much from us researchers. They demanded too much of my Grandpa! They forced us to come up with new ideas and data and they take credit for our research! No more!"

"Gary, I know the League has its faults but there's another way! It doesn't have to be this way! You don't have to do this! Think of Professor Oak, he wouldn't want this for you!"

"How dare you," Gary shouted back. "I've made a revolutionary breakthrough in science and Pokémon. My Grandfather never accomplished anything of this magnitude. I'll honor his memory by seeking revenge on all the people who hurt us!"

"_Let this go_! Just let it go!" Ash begged him. "You don't have to do this!!"

"But I do," Gary replied. "I will however, give you one chance to join me. What do you say, brother?"

"Not on your life!"

Gary shook his head. "That's unfortunate, Ash. We deploy to the Indigo Plateau tonight and I can't have you following us. I'm sorry I have to do this! Pikachu, Thundershock!" Gary pointed at Ash.

Under Gary's influence, Pikachu hummed its name and electrified the boy with a direct hit. Ash wailed in pain and collapsed on the floor, muttered his last words before drifting off into unconsciousness.

"Gary…how could you do this?"

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

"Gary, I'm so sorry about your Grandfather; he was a wonderful man," an older woman said.

"If there's anything we can do, you let us know," a man to his left offered. He shook his hand, smiled unevenly and walked away.

"Thank you," Gary replied. As they left, he sat back on his chair despondently. He wilted and covered his face with his hands. He was tired; tired of this day. Making the arrangement for the funeral was hard enough. He was sick of the dozens of people he was forced to talk to, listening to their (at best) shaky condolences. Most of the people he didn't even know and probably was never going to see ever again. He just wanted today to end.

"I'm sorry about our loss, young man," a voice in front of him said. Gary split his fingers, allowing his eye to peek through. A tall man in a clean dark suit stood before him. One of his hands was shoved neatly in one pocket, the other he extended out for him to take.

Gary rose and shook it. "Uh, thanks I guess. Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Oh, I'm an old friend of your Grandfathers."

"Really? How do you know him?" Gary asked.

"That's neither here nor there," he dismissed his question. "I am actually here to talk about you, Gary."

"Me?" Gary echoed. "What about?"

"I'm wondering about your Grandfather's research and lab. What will happen to it now that he's past on?" the man cautiously asked him.

"I—I don't really know," Gary admitted. "I've been doing all of my research in Sinnoh. I guess I could carry on my research here."

"I think that is an excellent idea," he grinned.

"Who are you?" Gary warily asked.

"I'm a wealthy benefactor," he stated with a cloak of ambiguity. "I ask this because I'm interested in sponsoring your research and your findings."

"But doesn't the Pokémon League do that already?"

"Gary, Gary—" the man shook his head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The Pokémon League isn't interested in you. All they're interested in is your ideas," he said pointed to his head. "They halfway worked your Grandfather to death with the demands they put on that poor man."

"How do you know about that?"

"I make it my business to know," he said, reaching inside his jacket pocket. "With me you'll be able to further your scientific Pokémon research with total freedom. All I ask is a little compensation in return."

The man pulled out a small white business card and placed it in Gary's hand. "Or you could stay under the yoke of the Pokémon League and have them leech off you. It's your choice. I'll I ask is that you think about it."

Gary looked at the card. All it had on it were the letters "TR," and a phone number. He shoved the card into his pocket and exhaled deeply. He looked up and the mysterious man was gone, submerged in the crowds of black.

Gary felt some added weight on his shoulder. A hand gently placed itself on his upper back. He turned around.

"I'm sorry…"

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

"I'll never let this go but I can't find the words to tell you…"_ – Let This Go, Paramore_


	5. Whoa

**All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 5 – **Whoa  
**

**

* * *

**  
The pale light radiated from the moon, brilliantly lighting the skyline of Saffron City. The tall buildings stood densely packed together like peasants huddling for warmth. The eerie moonlight settled upon them as hundreds of lights from traffic signals, billboards and thousands of rectangular building windows beckoned back.

A group of frail clouds hung in the blue midnight sky. They delicately crawled across the heavens partially covering the twinkling stars and moon then silently drifted away and died. A crystal blue shooting star stretched across the black night, leaving a shimmering icy trail in its wake.

"Whoa…"

A slim redhead sat pensively on a concrete roof, back against a cold steel air conditioning unit. She tilted her head up and gazed into the nickel sized moon. She took a deep breath, held it in and exhaled slowly till there was nothing left. The coldness made her breath visible, folding and twisting higher into the night until it vanished completely. A cold gust followed, persuading her hair to dance in the wind. She sighed again and rubbed her arms for warmth.

She was waiting. Misty hated waiting. She nervously tapped her foot against the cement roof, arms folded tightly against her. Misty never described herself as a patient person (nor did anyone else) but tonight was especially intolerable. She yielded into excluding herself from the action. Here she could not make a difference. Not only did she have an undeniable urge to help Ash but she was completely unaware of what time it was.

Misty was to wait fifteen minutes for him but Paul took her watch and Ash didn't lend her his. She had no idea how long it had been since the boy crawled through the small ventilation system with Pikachu. It could have been fifteen minutes or half an hour ago. It seemed longer. Maybe it was Ash's ploy all along to secretly exempt her from the plan.

"Stupid, Ash," she mumbled, exhaling deeply again.

Her thoughts were broke by a sudden clamor of noise—dozens of them. Misty peeked over the edge of the building. Dozens of Rockets were piling into a horde of unmarked white vans. One by one they exited out of the parking lot and drove away. Misty counted at least twenty vans each one holding at least ten men. The final vehicle holding up the rear of the convoy was a large unmarked moving truck. Ten Rockets moved something large from the building to the truck, covered by a black tarp. They put it into the cargo hold and slid the door shut. The truck lowered from the extra weight and it screeched away.

Misty peeled her eyes away from the parking lot and sat back against the air conditioning unit before the roof camera caught her. If there were a better time to infiltrate a building this would be it. Most of the Rockets were gone leaving it virtually unguarded. She made up her mind.

"Fifteen minutes or not—I'm going in."

Misty entered into the dark tunnel. Using her elbows, she crawled slowly through it. She wasn't going to get anywhere inching blindly with no guide or schematic to help her. Misty reached into her pocket, searching for one of her Pokéballs.

"Azumarill, I need your help," she whispered.

In a flash of red light, Misty's cheery aqua rabbit Pokémon appeared in front of her. It smiled at her and waved the blue sphere at the end of its tail back and forth.

"Okay, Azumarill," she began. "I need those ears of yours. Try it see if you can hear Ash, okay?"

"Azu!" the water Pokémon responded. It shut its eyes and focused its concentration. Its long ears twitched and bent forward. Finally, Azumarill beamed and gestured her trainer to follow. Misty smiled; she could always rely on her faithful Pokémon. Since receiving Azurill as an egg from Tracey's Marill, Misty tirelessly trained it into a strong water Pokémon. Along with its powerful water attacks and swimming capabilities she harnessed its unique hearing to identify virtually anything around it.

Misty followed closely behind the sure ears of her Azumarill. They were getting close to finding Ash. She knew it; that is until…

A loud crack. Misty remained as still as possible. The metal underneath them started to bend. How much do Azumarills weigh anyway? Maybe she should have considered that first.

WHAM!

Misty groaned and rubbed her lower back. She got up gingerly and regained her balance. "Are you okay, Azumarill?" she asked.

"Azu!"

"Good," Misty smiled.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" a Rocket shouted from down the hallway. He turned and started to run. At the end of the corridor was a small panic button.

"Let's go, Azumarill. We can't let him reach the alarm!" Misty commanded her Pokémon.

"Rollout, Azumarill!"

Azumarill acknowledged and curled up into a ball, rolling toward the fleeing Rocket. Before he reached the alarm, Azumarill hit him directly on the back sending him flying to the opposite wall. Misty towered over the fallen Rocket henchman.

"Where's Ash?!"

"I—I don't know what you're talking about?" he gasped.

Misty knelt down and stared at him with her deep aqua eyes. One way or another he was going to tell her. She recalled Azumarill and unattached another Pokéball. She let the new Pokéball drop to her side; it rolled slightly in a circle and released the Pokémon inside.

A giant serpentine dragon Pokémon appeared behind her, mouth wide open shrieking atrociously. It gnashed its long sharp fangs and stared deep into the countenance of the horrified man. Misty's Gyrados growled again as saliva dripped from its large fangs. The Rocket nervously gulped, clutching the metal wall behind him.

Misty smiled. "Remember, now?"

* * *

**SIX MONTHS AGO**

"What a day," Misty mumbled, opening the swinging doors from the Cerulean Gym battle area to the lobby. Her orange hair fell freely, lightly grazing her upper back. A small white towel cuddled over her neck and draped over both shoulders. She took it and wiped the sweat forming on her forehead. She wore a light blue colored two piece bikini with a white bubble pattern. Her ensemble completed with a matching waterproof overcoat dropping at thighs length.

She entered into the empty lobby, swiping a small clipboard on the receptionist desk. Using the attached pen, she scanned the contents carefully and checked off the tasks.

"Well, let's see…" she said, going down the list. "Clean pool—check. Feed Pokémon—check. Replace diving board—check," writing a small check mark beside every task she read.

"Oh, crap!" Misty immediately shot up from the papers. Listed at the end of her reminders was an appointment. "What day is it?" Misty asked herself, frantically searching for her Water Pokémon themed calendar hanging on the wall beside the desk.

"Good," she sighed in relief; the Pokémon League Gym Leaders meeting was still a few days away. Official Gym Leaders certainly lead a busy life and Misty was no exception. Aside from the dozens of trainers that walked through the doors begging for a battle (or more accurately her Cascade Badge), she had daily maintenance and errands to perform. Indeed, the days easily bled together making time a constant wonder.

Misty worked her way to the couch and took her seat. She kicked up her legs on the nearby table, crossed them and laid her head back on the cushion. Pokémon League meetings were more frequent nowadays. Misty didn't object to attending them as they were more an inconvenience. They did however provide a much needed break.

In the last few years the Pokémon League tightened; became significantly strict. Misty remembered the last meeting, the lecturer being Lance the Dragon Master. He meant business; speaking with powerful conviction the whole time. Lance mentioned the importance of strengthening the core of the Pokémon League. The Gym Leaders have a duty (make that an honor) to uphold the principles the Pokémon League stand for. They are to instill proper values and morals to their students and incoming trainers.

He even reminded them about the need for serious Pokémon Training. Team Rocket had secretly gone from a fledgling gang of thieves to a viable force of organized crime. Gym Leaders weren't called upon to fight but they were to set a high standard and be ready if anything did happen.

That wasn't a problem for Misty. She made sure all her Pokémon were trained and properly cared for, regardless of the direction. She strived to keep getting better every day. Someone once taught her that a long time ago.

"Hey, how's it going, Misty?"

The water Gym Leader broke her thoughts and turned her head to the voice. A tall attractive woman with cascading blond hair stood a few feet in front of her. She flipped her golden hair backward, took off her sunglasses and gave Misty a quick wink.

"Taking a small break are we, little sister?" the blond woman giggled, leaning in slightly.

Misty smiled. "Hi, Daisy—how have you been?" she said standing up and gave her big sister a hug. It had been weeks since she last saw her.

"I'm good. My movie is filming a scene right here in Cerulean City. We're done shooting for the day so I decided to visit home."

"Don't you have a photo shoot or an interview to go to, or something?"

"Well yeah," Daisy playfully agreed. "But I wanted to spend some time with my baby sister."

"Well, thank you for gracing me with your presence," Misty sarcastically bowed, causing both of them to laugh. "I'm glad at least one of my sisters remembered me back at our family Gym."

"Oh, Misty," Daisy started. "You know Violet and Lilly love you. They just have full schedules with their modeling careers, you know that."

"Yeah, I know," Misty waved. "So, what's the movie about?"

"Oh, just a small romantic flick," Daisy replied modestly. "Not my usual blockbuster role but it'll do."

Misty knew she wasn't lying. Since leaving the Gym a few years ago, Daisy had progressively built her acting career. With a flurry of huge smash-hit roles under her belt, Daisy became one of the most sought after actresses in all of Kanto. Misty was proud of her older sister.

"How about you; how's the Gym life going, Misty?"

"It's tough," Misty honestly responded. "Being a Gym Leader is hard work but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"I bet," Daisy smiled. "Looks like you got a pretty good handle on things around here." Turning to the receptionist desk, she noticed a large stack of unopened mail. "Whoa, a little behind on your mail, aren't we?"

"Oh that? Mail isn't exactly my first priority, you know. My Pokémon always come first."

"Of course." She picked up a few unopened envelopes and waved them around. "May I?" she asked, grinning a little too hard.

"Be my guest," Misty giggled, sitting back down on the couch. She grabbed a small water bottle off the table and drank, listening to her nosey sister.

Daisy shuffled the envelopes around, unenthusiastically reading the headings. "Bills, junk mail, bank statements…"

"I do lead an exciting life, don't I?" Misty joked, taking another sip of her bottle. It wouldn't be a bore for long. Daisy's emerald eyes perked as she found a blue envelope and separated it from the rest of the "junk mail."

"Lookie what I found," Daisy announced half in song, wielding it in Misty's direction.

"What is it?" Misty asked indifferently.

"Looks like an invitation to a party." The older girl took the couch opposite of Misty's. The Gym Leader raised in eyebrow. That couldn't be right; she was never considered part of the elite social pipeline. This had to be a practical joke.

"I'm not lying," Daisy assured, knowing full well of her sister's train of thought. "Look, it's an official invitation to the Pokémon League fund raiser in Vermillion City! It's in a few weeks."

"Big whoop," Misty slouched on her couch. Large functions didn't appeal to her one bit. A bunch of girls in backless dresses and men in tuxedoes parading around the dance floor sounded pretty uneventful. Nothing exciting about a bunch of drunken guys hitting on her the whole evening too. She didn't even mention her poor dancing skills.

"But it is a big deal!" Daisy said in protest. "This is your own personal invitation." She read the rest—line by line. A smile crept across her face. This would get her.

"Ash will be there."

"WHAT?!" Misty screamed in mid drink, spraying water everywhere. The flustered girl coughed and sputtered, wiping her mouth with her forearm. She looked at Daisy who was caught in her range. Who cares about that; she mentioned…

"W-What did you say?" Misty nervously asked, her apology already forgotten.

Daisy giggled. "Well, well—looks like I hit a nerve." She definitely knew how to push her little sisters' buttons.

Misty's face turned a hue of red. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said trying to hide her blushing face.

"Come on sis, I still can't believe after all these years—" Daisy started. Misty didn't even give her a change to finish her thought.

"It was just a stupid _childhood crush_!" Misty defended her reaction. "It was a really long time ago—that's it," Misty said forcefully.

Daisy grinned; she knew her little sister's tone too. It was the 'drop it now or else' tone. She submitted, for the moment.

"Suit yourself," Daisy said with a small pop of her shoulders, resetting the conversation with her nonchalance. "But Ash really is going to be there, look it even says on the invitation." Daisy briefly flashed its contents in Misty's face then quickly retracted before Misty could take it and tear it to pieces.

"Wow, Ash must be pretty important to the Pokémon League," Daisy said, reading it again.

"What do you mean?" Misty lobbied her further.

"He's giving the keynote speech."

"So," Misty shrugged, tempering her interest. "Big deal, it's just a lousy speech. Ash is horrible at speeches anyway. He'd probably find a way to screw it up."

"Not so fast, little sis," Daisy countered. "I've been to one of these before. I dated a League Agent for three months, remember? The Elite Four doesn't give this to just any ordinary person. Only the top agent gets this honor."

"Really?" the words captured her attention. She extended a hand, pleading for the now important piece of paper. Daisy happily gave up the invitation; its existence was ensured now. Misty read it over and over with disbelief.

"Wasn't becoming a Pokémon League Agent his dream?" Daisy asked.

"No, not originally," Misty corrected her. "Ash wanted to become the greatest Pokémon Master. He decided to apply to the Pokémon League Agency a few months after."

"Right. I still remember watching that last championship battle on TV. That kid tore it up!"

"Yeah," Misty smiled inwardly. If there was a topic not debatable it was Ash's Pokémon handling. He proved unquestionably he was the best that day. He stood alone as the Pokémon Champion.

"It's perfect!" Daisy squealed, pumping her fists. "Oh, this is just like in the movies! Misty, you definitely have to go now!"

"What are you talking about, Daisy?" Misty didn't share her sister's enthusiasm; more like a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"Ash has made quite a name for himself. He's gotten to the highest point of his career. When the hero of the movie finally achieves all of his goals he realizes in the end it isn't enough—he needs more!"

"This isn't like the movies, Daisy!" Misty argued.

"I know, but he's obviously matured enough to make it this far. Now he can focus on other things; now he can focus on things like—" Daisy stopped.

"Like what?" she pleaded for the ending.

"I don't know," Daisy smirked slyly. "Like a certain _childhood crush_, maybe."

Misty looked down as a pathetic attempt to hide her blush. Daisy certainly had more experience in the 'L' category than she did. Of all the things Daisy had an aptitude for she definitely had a vast knowledge of relationships and men. Was she right? Maybe, just maybe—Ash had grown up.

"So, I'll be here in a few weeks to look after the Gym," Daisy grinned, quite proud of herself. She slipped on her sunglasses and aimed for a smooth exit.

"Wait, you're filling in? Why?"

"Because we both know you're going to that function, Misty," Daisy beamed. "I'll be back tomorrow to help you shop for a dress."

Misty shook her head like waking from a dream. Her eyes narrowed to the small blue invitation lying hopefully on the table. What just happened here?

"See ya later, little sis…"

* * *

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

Metal Bars. A dim light. A confined room. Ash laid face down unconscious on the ground. He groaned and peeled his face away from cold metal floor. A stray string of saliva ran from the corner of his mouth to the ground, finally snapping as he turned completely around. He coughed slightly and tried to lift himself up.

Resurfacing out of unconscious is an interesting experience. Completely opposite from a good night sleep where rejuvenation follows. A 'knock out' is hours of sleep without the satisfaction. A mind-splitting headache was more the ending result. Still woozy, Ash pressed his fingers against his flaring temples to steady the distortion. He heard noises behind him. The commotion grew but Ash didn't have the energy to turn.

A Rocket flew across the adjacent room. He hit the opposing wall and slid to the floor. Another Rocket was blasted against the same wall by a powerful Water Gun attack. He fell face first on the ground and drifted off to sleep.

A young girl ran to the brig, gripping her pale fingers against the thick metal bars.

"Ash!" she yelled. The boy didn't respond.

The orange haired trainer shook the bars; the only thing standing between them. She ran to one of the fallen Rockets, unhooked the keys from his belt and opened the door to the big. The door groaned as it slid open and ended with a piercing slam. In an instant, she was at his side.

"Ash? Ash?" she pleaded. "Damn it, Ash! Why did you have to get yourself captured?"

Misty looked to another figure laying a few feet away. She recognized him.

"Paul," she whispered. He looked out cold too.

"Misty…" the black haired agent murmured, on the fringe of consciousness. With his remaining strength he placed his hand on her wrist and gazed into the eyes of his rescuer. "Gary—" he managed to utter.

"We can't worry about Gary right now," Misty replied. "We need to get out of here before Team Rocket realizes what's going on," she cradled his head in her arm, trying to draw him out.

"No, Misty—you don't understand. It's Gary!" he managed to shout.

"Ash, what are you talking about?"

"Gary," he repeated. "He's behind it—everything. You have to warn the League!" Ash gasped out. He drifted back to unconsciousness as the energy drained from his eyes.

Misty remained silent; did she hear Ash right? Sure, he wasn't in the right frame of mind but she didn't question his words; she trusted him. Misty held Ash's wrist and tapped on his watch. She read and memorized the numbers across the small display screen. The water trainer rose to her feet and exited the brig. By the Rocket post was a small video phone. Misty grabbed the receiver and pushed in the numbers as fast as she could, peering over her shoulder as she did. The phone seemed to sing forever.

A blurred image appeared on the screen. Misty could barely make it out. Despite the snowy picture she still spoke.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" she called into the receiver.

_"Hello, who is this?"_ the image asked. Misty narrowed her eyes. The figure was a young man with spiky brown hair and dark bronze skin.

"Brock, is that you?" Misty asked.

_"Yes. Who is this? How did you get this number?"_ the boulder trainer replied.

"It's Misty!" she revealed. "Quick, I don't have much time!"

_"Misty? Where's Ash?" _

"We don't have time, Brock! It's Gary; he's behind everything!" Misty cried, turning back to Ash lying on the floor.

Brock responded with a flood of questions. _"What are you talking about? Gary? Misty, where are you?" _

"You need to be ready!" she shouted. "Gary is the new leader of—"

_MESSAGE TERMINATED_

Too late. Misty checked her connection then reset the call. Total static now. Misty let the receiver drop from her fingers. She had more important things to think about, like getting the hell out of here.

"Come on, Ash!" she begged. "We have to get out of here."

Her pleas seemed to work. Each soothing word slowly pulled Ash out of unconsciousness. The Pokémon Master rubbed the blurriness from his eyes and touched his blazing temples.

"Misty?" Ash uttered.

Misty smiled and helped Ash to his feet; making sure he could stand on his own before waking Paul.

"Pikachu," Ash whispered. "Where's Pikachu?"

"I don't know, Ash," Misty admitted, bringing a rather grumpy Paul back to the world. The purple haired agent held his shoulder and leaned against the bars for support.

"They have him!" Ash angrily shouted. "We have to find him! I have to find him!"

"Not so fast," Misty stopped him. "You're not in any condition to mount a rescue. We have to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving here without Pikachu!"

"I know Pikachu means a lot to you, Ash," Misty replied. "But, we need to think about ourselves!"

Agent Ketchum refused her logic. He didn't care. Pikachu was his oldest and best friend in the world. Since receiving him at Professor Oak's laboratory fifteen years ago the two were inseparable. Pikachu stood beside Ash through all the rigorous training and battles. Through the sting of the losses and the height of victory he was there through it all. Ash couldn't leave Pikachu, especially in Team Rocket's hands.

"Pikachu might not even be here, Ash. You said it yourself; we have to warn the Pokémon League!" her logic was unassailable but it didn't matter to Ash Ketchum.

"No!" the agent shouted stubbornly, growing more lucid with every word. "I won't just leave him behind, I won't!"

"We're not leaving him behind!" Misty shouted back. "We'll come back for him!"

"Let's find him now!"

"We will later!" the fiery redhead yelled.

"Now!"

"Later!"

"Now!"

"Later!"

"SHUT UP!" Paul separated the two. "Damn it, you're acting like a bunch of ten year old's! Look, we don't have time to fight about this! Misty is right…"

"I am? / She is?" the two 'ten year old's' said in unison.

"Listen," Paul turned and faced Agent Ketchum. "I know you have strong feelings about that rodent but we're at a huge disadvantage. We don't have our Pokémon or any supplies. We can hardly save ourselves let alone someone else!"

Ash remained speechless as Paul continued his onslaught. "If you really want to help Pikachu we need to get out of his building, regroup and then plan a rescue."

The commanding Agent pointed to his head. "Don't follow your heart, Ash. Listen to your head—you know this is the right thing to do!"

Ash looked down. He bit his lip from barking a response and slowly nodded. His heart would just have to wait…this time.

"Good," Paul nodded. "Let's find a way to get out of here." The commanding agent took the lead with Misty in the middle and Ash bringing up the rear. The trio exited the holding cell block and entered a long steel corridor.

"This way," Paul gestured, the two following close behind him. They ran thirty yards until the hallway split into two opposing directions.

"Which way?" Misty eyed both paths.

Suddenly, the lights on the walls changed 'red' with a deep repetitive siren echoing throughout the compound. They covered their ears from the blaring alarm. They had been detected.

"No time!" Ash shouted. "This one!" he pointed to the right corridor and ran.

"Hey!" Misty called behind him as she struggled to follow. "Are you sure this is the right way?"

"Sure, I'm sure!" Ash yelled back. He gained a few yards ahead of Misty and Paul. The two saw Ash turn a sharp corner. As soon as they approached…

"AH, NOT SURE! DEFINITELY NOT SURE!!!" Ash came blasting back followed by a flock of screeching Fearow. Misty screamed, readjusted her track and ran the opposite way.

"I thought you knew where you were going, Ash!" the young girl cried out, pumping her legs as fast as she could.

"You can yell at me later, JUST RUN!" Ash shouted. The three took the left corridor with the giant vulture-like Pokémon following inches behind them.

Misty looked back. The Fearow snapped their long beaks at them, begging for the taste of human flesh. She reached for her side and threw her Pokeball ahead of them. The white and red sphere bounced once and released her Azumarill.

"Azumarill! Hydro Pump!" She yelled at the top of her lungs. Her aqua rabbit Pokémon inhaled fully, ready to attack.

"Hit the deck!" Misty shouted.

All three dropped to the ground before the Fearows took their heads. A massive stream of water hit the birds, sending them in a spiraling frenzy. The force of the Hydro Pump blasted them back to the far end of the passageway and crashed into the Rockets who called them.

The three escapees rose and started to run again. Misty recalled her Azurmarill as she ran between the two agents. Ash stole a quick glance at his orange haired rescuer. That was quite a display of power back there. Misty had developed into a formidable Pokémon trainer. She was older and had developed in other aspects as well. Not the best time to be thinking about that, Ash.

The long hallway ended in an unmarked door. Reaching it first, Ash immediately turned the handle and burst through. They entered a large room with a high ceiling. Three massive generators occupied the majority of the space. The giant turbine machines whirled and hummed steadily. A long ladder led to a narrow catwalk suspended fifty feet over the generators ending in another unmarked door. Four Rockets manning the metal monsters stepped away from their posts and stood in front of the ladder, blocking their escape.

"Crap," Paul grumbled to himself.

"This doesn't look like the outside, Ash," Misty said, putting her hands on her hips.

"I'm working on it!" Ash shouted. He reached for his belt. His fingers grazed against his side where his Pokeballs should have been. 'Damn, Gary must have taken them too,' he thought.

The agent carefully examined the four Rockets, cracking their knuckles and chuckling arrogantly. They could deal with two young boys and a girl. The lead Rocket spat on the ground and put up his fists.

Agent Ketchum was without Pokémon or weapons. Time to improvise. Ash shut his eyes and exhaled deeply; clearing his mind of all distractions and entered into his fighting stance.

The lead Rocket wasn't impressed. This kid didn't scare him. He ran toward Ash and aimed for his face. In a flash, the agent ducked under his right hook and rose, kneeing the Rocket in the stomach. He groaned with pain, folding over Ash's knee. Using the lead Rocket's back as a surface, Ash rolled over him and connected two powerful kicks to the next unsuspecting opponent. The Rocket grunt flew against one of the generators and fainted. Ash smirked and prepared for the two grunts surrounding him.

The third Rocket didn't have a chance to react. Ash connected a lightning fast blow to the face, snapping his head backward. Using the same arm, he elbowed the other square in the temple in two fluid motions. Spinning in a circle, Ash sent the two Rockets away with a swift roundhouse kick. Ash smiled at the defeated grunts, lying like fallen petals sprawled around him.

"Show off," Paul crossed his arms.

"Feel free to join the party," Ash grinned.

Misty was speechless. Of all the things Ash was, he was NEVER a talented fighter. The clumsy kid with the Pokémon hat, jeans and a short sleeve overcoat she remembered was gone. Before her stood a much taller, leanly built young man. Forget the trainer clothing; Ash adorned a classic midnight black agent outfit. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with black fingerless gloves on both hands. He looked rather dashing—and kinda cute.

She would have continued gawking too if it wasn't for a few Rockets sneaking up behind her. Misty felt something pull her back and an arm closing around her neck.

"Misty!" Ash yelled as he heard her scream. Three Rockets stood in the threshold, the middle one holding Misty hostage.

"Let her go!" Ash demanded, taking a few steps forward.

"Ah, ah, ah…" the lead Rocket advised squeezing his arm tighter around Misty's neck. She clasped both hands on the Rocket's forearm giving her enough room to breathe. "One more step and this little cutie gets it," he grinned. "Stand down agents, now!"

Ash gnashed his teeth together. Paul stopped him from advancing any further. The two agents nodded simultaneously and knelt on the floor.

"Good," the lead Rocket grinned. "Apprehend them," he motioned to the other two henchmen. They walked over to them each pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Ash did not look anywhere but the eyes of the lead Rocket holding Misty hostage. His murderous stare provoked the Rocket further.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of your girlfriend," he smirked.

'Oh, hell no.' Misty heard enough. With all her energy slammed her heel on the unsuspecting Rocket's foot. He yelped in pain, temporarily releasing his grip. That was all the time she needed. Misty snapped her head back, breaking the pervert's nose. As he stumbled backward, she turned around and kicked him in the privates bringing him to his knees. As the Rocket fell in the threshold in the entrance, the water trainer flicked the door closed, smashing it in his face. He wouldn't come to for hours.

Ash and Paul glanced toward each other. Where did that come from? They almost forgot they had a Rocket apiece to deal with. Paul jumped to his feet and faced his foe: a lanky Rocket with sunglasses. The gangly fighter assumed his fighting stance and aimed a left jab. Paul grabbed it easily with his left hand. Using his right fist, struck his elbow inward breaking his arm. The move left the Rocket temporarily paralyzed from the shooting pain, leaving enough time for Paul to finish him with powerful three hit combo to his chest, stomach and head. He fell on the floor and fainted.

Agent Ketchum peered at his opponent: A bulky grunt with cut off sleeves revealing his massive arms. The grunt flexed his muscles, slipping on a pair of brass knuckles on each fist. He lunged toward Ash with a right hook. The agent countered easily spinning out of the way. The grunt turned around and threw another assault of punches. Ash however was too quick, ducking and dodging them effortlessly.

The grunt shouted in frustration and tried a right punch directly at his midsection. Ash stepped back just out of reach, causing the grunt to lose his balance. Ash took the opportunity; braced his foot on the grunt's knee and flash kicked him right under the chin. As soon as Ash reestablished himself on the ground he ran full speed at the disoriented grunt and executed a perfect flying side kick to the face. It seemed like it took three seconds for the grunt to hit the ground.

Ash turned to Misty. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I could ask you the same question," Misty laughed. "I took a self defense class a few years ago. It comes in handy when you're, you know, walking down a dark alley or fighting off a gang of thugs."

"Right, well your kick was a little weak. You should have established balance before you hit him."

"Excuse me?" Misty asked annoyed. "I crippled the guy. I had perfect form. Besides, you look like you could use more practice," she snapped back. She lied.

"Doubt it," Ash waved her off. "I've sparred and beat every agent in the whole League. I'm undefeated."

"You wouldn't be if I had been there," Misty wryly smirked.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"If you're done with your lover's spat," Paul interrupted, a statement making both parties blush. "We still need to find a way to get the hell out of here! Could we lower the bickering to a minimum, please?" Paul scoffed with annoyance. It was like he was babysitting the two.

Ash and Misty relinquished their quarrel for the moment and climbed up the ladder. The trio reached the catwalk suspended above the generators and sprinted across. As they crossed the halfway point the door on the first floor opened, flooding in a squad of Rockets.

"There they are! Get them!" the Rocket Captain shouted, pointing to the walkway. Two Rockets behind him reached for their belts and threw their Pokéballs, releasing two nasty looking Nidokings. The purple armor clad Pokémon roared their names and snapped their teeth.

"Hyper Beam, now!!" The two Rocket's commanded in unison.

The Drill Pokémon both focused their energy, shooting a massive energy beam from their large horns. The first beam aimed toward the bridge where Ash, Paul and Misty stood. The three ran to the end of the catwalk as the beam split the metal bridge behind them. Misty screamed as she fell backward, the ground disappearing beneath her feet. The broken piece of the metal bridge twisted and fell on top of one of the generators provoking a large mechanical groan.

The second Hyper Beam accidentally aimed lower and grazed the second generator, causing a small explosion. Sparks and tendrils of flame flew in all directions. The Rocket Captain grabbed his subordinate by the collar.

"You idiot, if those generators explode we all die!" he barked in his face. The grunt apologized silently recalling both their Pokémon.

It was too late. The second generator was completely inoperable on the brink of exploding. When it did, it would start a chain reaction sending the entire building up in flames. The only question was _when_ it would happen.

"Let's get out of here!" he commanded.

"But sir, what about them?" a third Rocket questioned.

"They won't escape in time! The explosion will take care of them! Let's move out!" he ordered as they closed and locked the door to the generator room.

For a moment Misty knew she was a goner. If the fifty foot fall didn't take her the rising flames from the unstable generators would. She shut her eyes and dreaded for the worst.

Not if Ash Ketchum had anything to do with it.

"MISTY!" he yelled, reaching for her. Ash held on the hand rail and caught her by the wrist. Misty hung by one hand as the fire licked underneath her shoes.

"Don't let go, Ash!" she pleaded.

"Not on your life!" he assured her.

Using all his strength he slowly pulled her up. As soon as she was able, Misty grabbed the ledge of the broken catwalk and pushed herself to safety. Ash fell back with Misty in his arms. The sudden proximity made him ridged. He held his breath. Their faces were inches from each other. Ash stared into her tear stained face, her eyes a breathtaking hue of ocean blue. Misty did not move, memorized by the boy's deep russet orbs. It gave her chills. They were the eyes of adventure and gentle kindness—the eyes of a hero. For a moment, nothing else mattered.

"LET'S GO!" Paul roared, breaking their connection. Ash helped Misty up as the two followed Paul out the second floor exit. The flames intensified, only needing a catalyst to provoke an explosion.

After twisting through another set of hallways, the three found themselves in a large cement parking garage. Large unmarked moving vans and trucks occupied most of the spaces. Paul ran up to one and tried to open it.

"Locked," he grumbled, kicking the door.

"Come on," Ash motioned the other two, running down the pathway. They passed row after row of the same unmarked cars. Ash frowned, not a very slick get away vehicle.

"Let's just pick a car!" Misty shouted.

Ash stopped. He found one. By itself parked a jet-black corvette convertible with its top down. It glistened in the garage lights. The sight almost brought Ash to his knees.

"Oh baby!" Ash smiled, rushing to the car. He slid across the hood and took the driver side, settling in the cool leather seating.

"Oh, no!" Paul said opening the driver door. "Ash, you don't have the best track record with cars. Let's go," motioning him the 'move' signal.

"Hey, my driving is fine!" Ash protested.

"Do I really need to mention what happened with you and Lance's red _Lamborghini Reventon_?"

After a stubborn twitch, Ash complied and switched to the passenger seat. Misty hopped in the back. She poked her head between the two seats.

"What happened with the Lance's car, Ash?" she teased, giving him a quick nudge.

"Nothing," Ash mumbled, obviously still pouting.

"What's to say," Paul began as he ripped out the wires under the steering wheel. "He took Master Lance's most prized possession over the Vermillion City Bridge."

"You went joyriding in his car?" Misty asked, barely able to contain herself.

"Only for a little bit," Ash argued the claim.

"Well yeah, it would've been longer if he didn't drive the thing into the damn ocean!" Ash winced. Paul just had to add that little tidbit, didn't he?

"Driving over 200mph will do that," Paul added as he connected the open wires together. "Lance had him scrubbing floors for a week," he snickered.

Misty was floored. She laughed and fell back in her seat, much to Ash's annoyance. That definitely made her day.

A large muffled explosion shook the building, reminding them of their current situation. Paul started the car via hot wire, shoved the car into gear and sped through the narrow parking structure. As they neared the exit, a massive sound shook the compound again, this time more violently. The door they entered from peeled back and was blown off its hinges, followed by an enormous explosion. Paul shifted gears to gain ahead of it. The wake consumed the parked cars one by one adding to its fierce intensity.

"Faster, faster!" Ash pushed.

"SHUT UP!" Paul shouted, peeking in the rear view mirror.

Misty ducked and prayed they make it alive. The explosion continued to gain on them. They could see the outside; just a little closer…a little closer…

BOOM!!!

The force expelled the car out. It flew and landed in the middle of the street. All three covered their face as little pieces of asphalt, brick and cement showered the surrounding area. All of the building's rectangular windows shattered. Smoke, ash and large tendrils of fire leaped forth, consuming the entire compound in a massive inferno. Paul shifted into gear and sped away before the debris hit them.

"Whoa, that was close," Misty sighed, watching the passing street lights.

Paul eyed the side mirror. A large black Hummer had been following them ever since the explosion.

"We're not out of the woods yet," Paul muttered, shifting into fourth gear.

Ash turned around and tried to catch a glimpse of the driver but the windows were tinted. A Rocket rose from the sunroof with a gray rocket launcher mounted on his shoulder.

'A Rocket with a rocket—figures,' Ash thought. The Rocket shoved a missile in the barrel and squinted through the targeting scanner. "Uh, we have a little problem," he tapped Paul on the shoulder.

"I KNOW!" Paul shouted, swerving in and out of the lanes to minimize accuracy. The rocket launcher fired, causing all three to flinch. Paul swerved the black corvette to the left just in time. The missile overshot them, taking out an empty bench on the side of the street.

"Where are we going?!" Misty yelled above the noise.

"We've got to warn the League about Gary! Go east on Route 7!" Ash pointed at the passing street sign. Paul took the on ramp followed closely by the black Hummer.

Fortunately, it was past midnight with little traffic on the express way. Paul kicked the corvette into fifth gear, approaching 90mph to add some distance. Another poorly aimed missile exploded to their right, taking out a giant chunk of the side rail.

"Sooner or later, they won't miss!" Ash said.

"Do you have any suggestions? I'm all ears," Paul shouted, passing a blue van. "I doubt they left a weapon in the glove compartment. Just s—"

The Hummer rammed into the back of their convertible, jerking their heads forward. A Rocket climbed out of the sunroof and carefully slid down the windshield. Perfectly timing his jump, he landed on the trunk of their car.

"Great," Ash mumbled as he unbuckled himself and jumped in the back seat. The Rocket regained his balance and aimed an off-balance punch toward the agent.

"Really?" Ash asked as he easily caught it with his left hand. The Rocket didn't have a chance to respond as Ash knocked him out with a fluid three hit combo. The agent yanked him up by the collar and tossed him away, landing in a small pond.

The black Hummer rammed them again, causing him to lose his balance. Ash fell back. He landed on something soft, and it wasn't the seat.

"Ash, get off of me!" Misty shouted.

"Oops, sorry," Ash timidly apologized. He turned back to Paul. "Punch it!"

The lavender haired driver kicked it into overdrive, breaking free from their chaser's grasp. The speedometer read well over 100mph.

Ash sat up and collected himself. In the distance, he could see the sunroof open again with someone coming out. It wasn't a human; it looked too large and animalistic. Suddenly, a massive Ice Beam attack flew over their heads and covered the street ahead of them with a thick layer of ice.

"Hang on!" Paul shouted. The corvette skid on the frozen highway, spinning out of control. The spiraling vehicle slid and crashed on the side of the road. Paul groaned and lifted his head off the steering wheel. Fortunately, Ash and Misty had secured themselves but that didn't stop Ash from covering the water trainer with his body.

Ash rose and released the girl from his arms. Misty exhaled and looked delicately in Agent Ketchum's deep brown eyes. No one had eyes like his. They made her tremble—but somehow also made her safe.

"Let's Bail!" Paul shouted.

His words broke her focus. The three unbuckled themselves and jumped from the car. Seconds later, a massive Hyper Beam hit the corvette sending it forty feet away, crashing into the rocky terrain. The three landed on the asphalt barely escaping death's grip.

The headlights from the Hummer turned on, blinding their vision. The massive vehicle roared its engine and sped toward them. Another Hyper Beam attack shot from the open sunroof.

Misty lifted herself off the icy road. It ended here.

She reached in her back pocket, found the object of her desire and tossed it in the air with her remaining strength. A flash of light appeared for a split second then faded, revealing a small pinkish rock Pokémon.

"Corsola," Misty commanded. "Mirror Coat!"

The coral Pokémon acknowledged by concentrating all its power on the inbound attack. A rainbow-like hue formed around its body, stopping the fierce Hyper Beam attack dead in its tracks. Corsola finished the move, repelling it back to its origin with twice the power. The Hyper Beam hit the Hummer dead center. It ignited the vehicle in a bright light, vaulting it to the sky. It finally plummeted to the ground and exploded, sending pieces of it everywhere—especially toward Misty.

"MISTY! NO!" Ash jumped in front of her.

* * *

**SIX MONTHS AGO  
**

Misty slammed the door to her room. Back against the door, she felt a single tear outlining her cheek bone and wiped it away with her palm. Her hand slid off her face, smearing her eye liner makeup. She sobbed softly and locked the door from behind her back.

Stepping over the clothes laying aimlessly on the floor, Misty found her way to her bed and sat on the blue water Pokémon printed covers. She unbuckled and took off her high heels. They matched her dress. The whole wardrobe almost cost her fortune. Why did she let Daisy talk her into going? Where's that damn receipt? Why did she allow herself to believe?

'What's wrong with me?' a question she repeated over and over.

A sudden surge of anger surfaced from Misty's sadness making her throw one of her shoes across the room. It knocked off the opposing wall and disappeared behind the dresser.

A knock on the door. "Misty, is that you?"

"GO AWAY!" she shouted, struggling to hold back the hotness in her eyes. She yanked the clips out of her hair. The orange locks loosened from the eloquent design it was in all night and fell to her shoulders.

Another knock. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine! You can leave now, Daisy!" Misty bitterly ordered. She looked down at her appearance: A silky midnight blue dress, shoulder-less and fit her absolutely perfect. She got about a hundred compliments the whole evening.

She hated it now.

More knocks. "Misty, what happened at the function? Tell me what's wrong!"

"Nothing's wrong! Just leave me ALONE!" the angry redhead screamed at the top of her lungs. She waited a few seconds in silence. Daisy had apparently given up; and so did she.

The broken girl curled up in her bed, clutched her pillow to her chest and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

**SIX MONTHS LATER  
**

"You know, I'm impressed with you, Misty," Paul said as he partly carried an unconscious Ash Ketchum on his shoulder.

"Impressed?" Misty repeated. "Why do you say that?" She put Ash's right arm on her shoulders, pulling him alongside the street. Paul did the same on the other side.

"Speaking as an agent of the Pokémon League, I'd say you handled yourself well back there."

"Thanks," Misty said, trying to stable herself. Ash weighed more than he looked.

"You fight pretty well too," Paul added.

His words triggered a thought. "You know, I couldn't help but notice Ash's fighting style is so much different than yours. You have a head-on forceful approach. Ash's technique is more fluid and stylish."

"I trained in the 'Art of Fire.'"

"Art of Fire?" Misty repeated.

"Yeah, it's a fighting style based on the dynamic of the flame. It's a powerful method and requires a lot of force and strength to your moves."

"And Ash's?"

"Ash mastered the 'Art of Water.' It's based on the principles of water. It's a more fluid and elusive way to engage your opponent. It's adaptable: powerful one second then smooth the next."

Misty smiled. The Leader of The Cerulean City Gym and future Water Pokémon Master had no problem with that. She loved everything water represented. She hoped Paul hadn't seen her blush.

"By the way, I didn't know you and Ash were dating."

"WHAT?!" Misty shouted, almost losing her balance. He composed herself before answering his ridiculous observation. "Ash and I are not together. We're just friends."

"Friends," Paul scoffed. "You could've fooled me."

"What are you getting at?" Misty mentally cursed herself. Why did she have to push this topic further?

"I've known Ash for a long time. I've never known anyone who can bring up so many different emotions in him. I've never seen him act the way he does around you."

"We're not a couple," Misty defended his claim.

"Riiiighht," Paul sarcastically smirked. "I bet Ash would be a horrible boyfriend. He disappoints so many people at the League."

"Well, Ash has disappointed me before," Misty admitted. That's for sure. "But I know deep down inside he has a good heart. He means well."

"You know him pretty well don't you, Misty?"

"We've been friends for a long time. But that's it—just friends."

"Misty," Paul sighed. "In my experience when two people always insist they're 'just friends,' they _aren't_ 'just friends.'"

"But we are," she insisted, sticking to her guns.

Paul paused before giving a reply. He shook his head.

"You're both idiots…"

The two continued carrying Ash, who was still out cold. Misty remained silent and gazed at the white signpost just ahead of them.

_"Pallet Town – 1 km"_

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**

* * *

**  
"I hoped for change but still I feel the same…" – _Whoa, Paramore_


	6. Conspiracy

**A/N – **I can't thank you guys enough for reading and reviewing this story. You're all wonderful! Just to give you a little heads up this chapter is pretty fast paced; it tends to jump around a lot. I think I subconsciously wrote this whole story like a movie script. Anyway, enjoy!

Oh yes, if you aren't familiar with any of the fighting moves Ash does, you can look it up. It helps to visualize the fight scenes better.

* * *

**All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 6 – **Conspiracy**

* * *

"Oh, come on!" Ash slammed his fists against the door. He wrapped his fingers around the door knob and tried to turn but it did not budge. He peered inside, cupping his hands around his face for more visibility. A white curtain covering the glass made the dancing figures look like ghostly silhouettes. They were probably having the time of their life.

"Pika?" his yellow friend asked.

"I can't believe they locked the door on me," Ash sighed, taking a few steps back. "I'm not that late, am I Pikachu?"

He lied. Ash knew it was mandatory for agents to attend League functions. Even though he despised them he was still obligated to go. Brock made sure of that.

"I just lost track of time," Ash said to nobody. "I was planning on being in the training room only for a few minutes." Five hours was more like it.

The truth was, Ash never planned on attending. Even though the Elite Four awarded him the honor of giving the keynote speech (which he never attempted to write); it was brushed under the rug of training exercises and sleep. Lots of sleep.

Ash's cherry red Ferrari parked diagonally to the white lines of the parking lot; skid marks from all four tires etched in the asphalt. Ash probably broke every speed limit in the book to get there. Indigo to Vermillion usually takes a few hours. Ash did it in less than one.

The agent (still adorned in his work out clothes) turned to his Pokémon. "I don't think we can get in, Pikachu. Doors close right before dinner. A lot of the people have already left." Ash scanned behind him. The parking lot looked like a smile full of missing teeth.

"This is going to be bad," Ash groaned, rubbing the back of his head. He was on his last nerve with the council. Coming late to meetings and league functions were his hallmark. Not to mention the incident with Lance's car. Ash shuddered. His hands still felt covered in grime no matter how many times he washed them.

"Pikapi?" the electric mouse asked.

"Sorry, I forgot. They don't allow Pokémon inside fancy parties like these," Ash knelt down and scratched him behind the ears. "But I guess it doesn't matter now."

Ash rose and tried the door once more. As he turned to leave, Ash found Pikachu balancing on the rim of a garbage can beside the door. Pikachu teetered on the brim of the receptacle, reaching for something inside. Ash narrowed his eyes inward and laughed slightly. Maybe he should have fed Pikachu before he left.

"Alright buddy, I got it," he said, awarding the half empty ketchup bottle to the persistent Pokémon. Pikachu happily accepted his trophy. This alone was worth the trip.

Something else captured the agent's attention. He reached in and delicately plucked a crumpled piece of paper resting just under the rim. It looked like it had his name on it, but that couldn't be right.

The boy unfolded it and tried to rub the creases out against his knee. He read…he read it again. Ash twisted and peered through the doors of the ball room then raked his eyes across the parking lot again. Nothing.

"Misty?" the boy asked, hand still clutching the note.

* * *

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

She watched in silence from across the room.

The long white tape wrapped around his bare chest; the bandages running diagonally from shoulder to side. The boy's frame was covered in so many bruises and scrapes the tape looked like it was the only thing holding him together. The older woman made sure the bandages were flush against his skin then turned her attention to his head.

After applying some ointment, she delicately placed the band aide above his left eye. The raven haired boy winced and clutched the cushion he sat on. The woman smiled and kissed her mended son on the cheek.

"All done."

"Thanks, Mom," Ash whispered, eyes still closed.

"You're welcome," she smiled, rising from the couch. "It's good to see you home, dear." Delia turned to Misty, back still against the wall, arms crossed pensively.

She placed a caring hand on her arm. "It's good to see you too, Misty."

The redhead smiled unevenly and nodded.

"I'll make us some tea," Delia turned toward the kitchen, leaving them alone.

They did not say a word. The air echoed sounds of clattering dishes and whistling teapots from the kitchen.

Misty stared at Ash resting his head on the cushion, in his own little world. But her attention was dictated by his body. Sure, some of him was covered by white dressing tape but his frame was still defined.

He wasn't a kid anymore, at least not on the outside. No child had cuts on their body like Ash did (the good kind of cuts). His muscles, however, weren't bulky or massive. But Ash managed to pull off looking slim yet remarkably still well toned. She liked it. For one thing, it was really doing a number on her hormones. She had the restraint flush to prove it.

"How long are you going to stare at me like that?" Ash elected to break the silence, eyes unopened.

"You're dreaming," she scoffed at the comment, joining him on the couch.

Ash was about to counter with a quick remark of his own but the pain pressing against his temples took precedence. He groaned weakly before beginning, "What happened? I feel like I was just hit by a truck!"

"Not exactly," Misty began; "more like pieces of a truck."

"Right," Ash mumbled. "You guys carried me all the way here?" He grabbed his black shirt on the arm of the couch and slid it on.

"Yep, all the way to Pallet," she said with slight disappointment.

"Where is Paul, by the way?" Ash looked around.

"He went to the PokéCenter for some supplies," Misty said, folding one leg under herself. "He'll be back in a bit."

"Why didn't you go with him?"

Misty's hesitations prelude her answer. He was going to make her say it, wasn't he? Although there was a strong possibility Ash didn't know the answer, deep down inside Misty knew he did.

"I—wanted to make sure you were alright." The words left her defenseless. Her trembles matched the thumps in her chest. Why was it so hard to be vulnerable in front of Ash Ketchum?

"I appreciate it," he said in mono-tone.

"Besides," she said before he could take the conversation away. "I'm the one that should be thanking you, Ash."

"For what?"

"For saving me!" Misty withdrew, hoping her sudden outburst didn't harm the atmosphere. The girl took a sweep of the kitchen. No change in behavior.

"You saved me, Ash," she said again, restarting the conversation with a gentler tone. "And I'm not just talking about on the highway, when I almost fell at Team Rocket's base or when they attacked my Gym. I've been with you for almost three days and you've saved my life so many times."

"I'm just doing my job," he replied, keeping it professional. "It's not a big deal."

"But it is." Why was he doing this? She could feel the heat building behind her eyes. Misty exhaled deeply to keep them from forming. "You know, this isn't anything new."

"What do you mean?"

"When we traveled together all those years ago; I can't even begin to count how many times you saved us. You didn't give it a second thought or even care about your own well being. You're a—" she paused, making sure she kept his full attention; "hero."

"I'm no hero," he quickly denied her statement. "Not even close. The League has no faith in me and I failed the first big mission I've been assigned. I tried to do my best, I tried to win but everything keeps blowing up in my face. No one thinks I'm a hero, Misty."

"I do," Misty whispers with no hesitation.

Ash turned, almost being drawn in by her words. Her voice was serious, steady and most importantly sincere. She meant it.

"Misty, I need to tell you something." His dull tone disappeared and was replaced with dread. His voice was shaky, as if his next words previously occupied his entire soul by themselves.

"Yes?"

"I want—I need to tell you…"

"ASH DEAR!"

The interruption caused both to launch off their seats.

"What is it, Mom?" Ash said, his heart pounding against his chest.

"Quick turn on the television, something's happening!" she shouted from the other room.

Ash stole a quick glance of Misty, searched for the remote and aimed it toward the television.

_"BREAKING NEWS: We're bringing you round the clock up-to-date reports from the events from yesterday night. If you've just joined us, the Pokémon League has been taken over by a group of terrorists!"_

"What?" the remote slipped from Ash's fingertips and hit the ground.

_"Apparently, the Pokémon League had no prior intelligence of the incoming attack. Eye witnesses say the complex was taken in just a few hours. We have no idea how many hostages or casualties there are. We've got some sources saying hundreds of Team Rocket members were seen at League Headquarters. I can't—I can't even begin to describe the pure shock the entire region is feeling right now…" _The reporter began to stammer. She narrowed her eyes to a clipboard then resumed her report.

"Oh my God," Misty whispered. The energy from her legs began to disappear and she fell to the floor. "I don't believe this."

_"I've just gotten word that KNC _[Kanto News Company]_ has received a video feed from the Pokémon League. We're sending it to you live now."_

The screen read static then reestablished connection. A sinister looking figure sat behind a desk. Ash recognized it; it was Lance's desk. He would use it at times for announcing emergencies or critical instructions for agents. The figure shrouded in darkness clasped his hands together, leaning in slightly.

_"Greetings, fellow citizens of Kanto. You no doubt are wondering about the events of last night. Allow me to shed some light on the situation. I am the new Leader of Team Rocket and I have taken control of your precious Pokémon League. That's right; I have beaten its students and trainers. I have even taken down the glorious Elite Four—they were no match for me!"_ he laughed smugly then continued. _"If you're wondering about our plans, well I can't reveal that to you just yet. Rest assured you will not be disappointed. We have plans for you and your Pokémon. For now, get use to the fact that there's a new sheriff running the show and things will change. Farewell!"_

The feed ended, sending it back to the reporter. She stood in pure shock; unable to find something to say. She gasped, gave the camera man the 'cut motion,' and sent the station to commercial.

"Gary," the boy mumbled, tearing his eyes from the screen. He lifted himself off the couch and slowly walked away.

"Wait, Ash!" Misty stopped him. He froze, neither advancing nor turning to her voice. "Where are you going?"

Ash sighed and dropped his head as if totally void of energy. "Nowhere," he managed a weak reply. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Well," Misty began, "we have to do something about this. You're the only one who can save them!"

"No," Ash answered. He finally turned; Misty did not realize he had been crying. His blood shot eyes narrowed into her soul. "I _can't_ save them—I can't."

"What are you talking about, Ash? You're a hero!"

Her words made him wince. "Hero? Hero? A hero doesn't screw up the mission! A hero doesn't disobey direct orders and try to make it on his own! A hero doesn't _fail_!"

Misty did not speak.

"They're right about me," Ash slid to the floor, back against the couch, legs inches from his chest.

"Who? Right about what?" Misty knelt in front of him.

"Everyone," Ash sobbed. "I wasn't put in charge of this mission because the Elite Four didn't believe in me. Brock said I'll never be a great agent. Paul said I'm a liability. I can't separate my feelings from the mission…"

"Well—"

"They're right!" Ash shouted angrily. "I went to Cerulean City without permission! I tried to save Paul on my own! I should have just called in for backup and we all could've taken Team Rocket together." The redness in Ash's eyes burned deeper; a small tear crawled down and stained his face.

"Now that bastard Gary has control of the League, Kanto—and Pikachu!" It was the final stone breaking his heart. Ash continued to let the tears fall not bothering to wipe them away. "I can't believe I put Pikachu, you—everyone at risk!"

"Ash, its okay…"

"I don't know what to do…" Ash wilted, hiding the shame in his face. "I don't know what to do…"

Misty moved closer, removing the wild bangs from his face.

"Ash," she softy began. "A hero doesn't follow his head _or_ his heart. A hero does _what is right_."

The boy sniffed softly, finally drying the tears from his eyes. He looked into the ocean eyes of his comforter. Her tender words cut deeply into his core and unearthed something lost and forgotten. He could not identify it but it infused him with strength.

With all inhibitions shed for one moment, Misty carefully leaned in and kissed him gently on the forehead. Ash closed his eyes as her lips delicately pressed on his skin. They stared deep in each other's eyes, faces inches apart.

"What was that for?" he asked, the weakness in his voice dissolving.

"I don't know," she confessed. "But I believe in you, Ash. I'm sorry I didn't back at the hospital, but I do now. I believe that you'll do the right thing. _I believe in you_."

Ash was at a loss of words; none were needed. It was the perfect moment.

Or so he thought.

"Fine," Misty whispered and stood up. Ash shook his head in confusion and watched her head for the door. He must have forgotten to answer her.

"Where are you going, Misty?"

"I guess I'll just have to make the trip to the Indigo Plateau alone," she said in a casual tone. "Yep, it's up to me now to defeat Team Rocket, stop Gary and save all of Kanto."

"W-wait, Misty—?" Ash stammered.

"Well, since you're not coming I'll have to save the world all by myself," she smirked, leaning in the threshold of the door; "all by myself."

Ash could not help but smile. She was quite possibly the most annoying, big-mouthed, arrogant, scrawniest girl on the whole planet. He wouldn't dare change a single thing about her. "There's no way you're pulling this off without me," he scoffed. "Alright, Miss. Waterflower—let's do this."

Misty smiled. That's the Ash she remembered. "Uh, shouldn't we think of a plan first?"

"We'll get to that," he assured her. "We just need to get a few things first."

"And what would that be?"

Ash grinned and motioned her to follow him through the door. She did, with no hesitation.

* * *

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

"Are your men in position?"

A tall attractive woman knelt beside a younger man. They narrowed their vision through the high brush and eyed a large complex. The woman nodded, prompting a smirk against her ally's face.

"I've got three units in place," she started. "But I have to be honest with you; Team Rocket has this place secured pretty tight. I don't think it'll be enough to take Indigo."

"We don't need to," the lavender haired man shook his head. "All we have to do is make a big enough distraction, drawing most of their forces out. The other team will take care of the rest."

"The other team? You mean—"

"It's not my plan," he scowled loudly. "But it's the most full proof thing I've ever heard him say so I'm going with it."

"Do we know the location of Team Rocket's mind control device?"

"Yes," he nodded. "We used infrared goggles to locate it. It's going to be the key if we're going to pull this off."

Officer Jenny lifted her eyes to the increasingly darkening sky. The gathering clouds erased the sunlight, leaving the area on the brink of downfall.

"What do we do now?" she whispered, propping up her policeman hat.

"Tell your men to standby for my signal and engage the Rockets on the right when I draw them out. I'll take the left." The agent enlarged his Pokéball.

Jenny nodded once more and crept away.

"One more thing, Officer," Paul stopped her. She looked back against his indifferent glare.

"This was his idea to ask you for help, not mine. I hope the local police force can handle a heavy strategic attack like this."

Jenny matched his arrogant tone. "Don't worry about us—we can hold our own," she said as she slipped away.

Good enough for him. Those Jennies can be pretty snippy. Paul raised his Pokéball at eye level and softly spoke to himself. "I wonder which move will get their attention the best. Flamethrower? Frenzy Plant? Hyper Beam?"

Paul rose and threw the ball; breaking into a sprint alongside his freshly released Pokémon.

"Ursaring! Hyper Beam!!"

* * *

Two mean looking Rockets broke through the doors of a dark room, a person in each grasp. The two hostages' wrists were bounded with rope and they struggled for freedom. The two men were forced by the Rockets to the floor in the middle of the room. The moonlight shined through the skylight on the ceiling, bathing the two in a haunting spotlight.

The Rockets stood at the cusp of the light, still masked in darkness.

"This is completely humiliating," the first moaned, splitting blood to his right.

"I still don't get how they were able to take us so easily," the other added. "The last thing I remember is Dragonite acting really strange and I blacked out."

"Well, you missed quite a battle," the spiky haired man grumbled sarcastically.

"Team Rocket usually isn't this aggressive, Brock. This isn't Giovanni's usual offensive tactic," Lance said, still feeling the effects of his black eye.

"I know," Brock began, eyeing the darkness.

"Evening gentlemen," a mysterious voice echoed from across the room. Brock narrowed his eyes against the black.

Lance didn't recognize the voice. "Who is that? Who are you?"

"Why Lance, I'm almost hurt you don't know my voice," the figure said with a low chuckle.

"Damn it!" Brock shouted, wriggling against the ropes around his wrists. "You might as well show yourself! I know it's you, Gary!"

"Gary?" the Dragon Master turned.

"Well, well," the voice began. "I underestimated you, Brock. I mistook you for a bumbling hormone driven fool. I guess I was wrong."

"Cut the crap!" Brock yelled. "What do you want!?"

"That!—is a very good question!" Gary smiled, stepping into their vision, body revealed against the silver light. "I'm glad you asked."

"Oak!" Lance shouted angrily. "I should have known it was you!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Gary smugly waved. "Just admit the great and powerful Lance the Dragon Master was outsmarted by me." Another deep chuckle bellowed out his throat.

"Never!" Lance arrogantly shouted.

"That's a shame," Gary smirked, because these next few days will be very unpleasant—for you."

Brock and Lance continued to stare deep into the eyes of their captor. Brock quivered, grinding his teeth together.

"Fellas, allow me to introduce you to my plans." Gary confidently snapped his fingers and two sets of completely different figures emerged from the darkness. One was a massive orange dragon with stout limbs, snorting wildly beside his new trainer. The other was a small yellow rodent, electricity flailing from his cheeks.

"Dragonite!" Lance yelled. "What have you done with him?!"

"It's part of my research. You see, all Pokémon in range of my device comes under my control. The machine transmits powerful psychic waves to this head set." Gary said, pointing to the metal halo around his temples. "I now own your Pokémon. They do anything I tell them."

"You're insane," Lance said under his breathe.

"Perhaps, but that's not even the half of it. Once I figure out how to perfect the device, I'll be able to control every single Pokémon in the entire world!"

Brock wasn't even paying attention; enemies and their stupid monologues. His attention was grabbed by the Pikachu to Gary's right. He looked familiar.

Gary noticed his glance. He belt down and patted the electric mouse on the head.

"Is that…?"

"Yes, Brock it is," Gary started. "This is Ash's Pikachu. I took it from him when he and Paul tried to infiltrate my base of operations. I must say, Ash wasn't exaggerating about Pikachu's powers. One swift electric attack and the guy was out cold."

"What did you do with him?!" Brock demanded.

"If I were you, I'd be more concerned with your current predicament. My revenge will be harsh, unrelenting and complete! The League is going to pay for what they did to me and my family!"

"Revenge? What are you talking about?"

"What have you done with Ash!? Wherever he is, he'll stop you!" Brock yelled.

Gary laughed. "Ash could barely take care of himself when he was younger, I wouldn't worry about him!"

Suddenly, a massive jolt shook the entire compound. Tiny particles of ceiling slowly traveled down and outlined all three in white dusty flakes. Gary grunted angrily and flipped open his communicator device.

"What was that?!" he shouted.

"_Sir, we're under attack,"_ a voice replied.

"Attack? By whom? We have every field agent in custody!" he blared into the receiver.

_"A few agents with some local police have penetrated our outer defenses."_

Gary screamed, almost chucking his radio transmitter across the room. "Send in reinforcements! I want this taken care of right away!"

The angered man didn't even let the Rocket reply. Gary snapped his receiver shut and broke the device in his grip.

Brock managed a cocky grin. "We've both known Ash for awhile. If I were you I _would_ worry about him."

His words left Gary in a provoked state. He refused to answer the rock trainer's statement and trembled.

* * *

"There's the signal," he said.

She looked at him for a brief moment. "Okay, we better get started then." Reaching to her belt, the girl enlarged the Pokeball and tossed it in the air. A pinkish hermit crab Pokémon appeared beside her.

"Slow," he slurred.

"You know, this seems all too familiar. Didn't we do this at Team Rocket's headquarters?"

He nodded. "Yes, but this'll time it'll be different."

"How, exactly?"

"First, because I know League Headquarters outside and in," he paused; "and secondly—because I said so."

"Well, that's reassuring," she mumbled.

"Just tell Slowbro to aim for the roof, Misty," he chuckled, pointing to the building in the distance. She agreed readily, whispered something in Slowbro's ear and stood back. The Psychic Pokémon focused his energy as a dark fuchsia hue surrounded them. Ash felt Misty's hand bump into his. Their fingers locked as just they disappeared into the air.

In an instant, they emerged a few hundred feet from their previous location.

"I'll never get used to that," Ash mumbled as he stumbled backwards.

"Really? Being transported is fun, it's like your in the future."

Ash laughed and scanned the bare concrete roof of Pokémon League Headquarters. It was suspiciously empty. The only thing on it besides them was a door leading to the lower floors.

"Okay, I guess I'll be going this way," Misty said and recalled her Pokémon. As she went for the door, she felt him grab her hand.

"Wait," the boy said, with panic in his voice.

"Ash, no—" she stopped him. "We need to stick to the plan. Trust me, I'll be fine. Just hold by your mark and wait for my signal. Then you can take on Gary."

"It's not him I'm worried about," the agent sighed, with concern in his eyes.

"Don't worry; I have my Pokémon to protect me. I'll be fine." Her simple yet firm words were enough for him. He let her go.

"Wait, how will I know what the signal is again?"

Misty opened the wooden door. She held it open and stood in the threshold. "The massive explosion, silly," she smiled; partly turning back then closed the door, leaving him alone.

The Gym Leader quietly climbed down the stars, sliding her fingers across the hand rail. The spiral staircase seemed to go on forever, until she reached her destination: three floors from the roof, the fifth level.

It was ingenious how they figured out the location of Gary's machine. A set of infrared binoculars and some creativity can go a long way. She quietly opened the door to the fifth story and took a peek inside. The coast was clear, for now.

Misty shut it just as cautiously and made her way through the corridor. A left turn, a right turn, then straight ahead. Sounded simple enough, right?

"Hey!" a group of voices called behind her. Misty turned; trailing behind was whole squad of Rocket's patrolling the hallway. 'Guess they didn't get called for reinforcements,' Misty thought.

Oh well, sucks to be them. The four Rockets stopped, eyeing her a few yards away. What the heck was a girl doing here?

"Hey, that's the scrawny girl from the Gym!" one called out. Bad move, _really_ bad move.

"Scrawny?" Misty's twitched angrily. "No one calls me scrawny!"

"Oh, what are you gonna do, little girl," another Rocket laughed, sparking the rest of his squad to agree. As their laughter died, two Rockets' threw their Pokéballs and released two Geodudes.

"Really?" Misty said, narrowing her eyes down to the puny looking Geodude. They didn't even look half as intimidating as Brock's rock Pokémon. "I feel sorry for you guys," Misty smirked, releasing one of her Pokémon.

"Empoleon!" the icy bird shrieked.

"Your move," Misty smiled confidently.

"Geodude, Tackle!" the two Rocket's shouted in unison.

"Metal Claw!" Misty countered. The arctic penguin bellowed his name, the tips of his steel wings glowing brightly. Easily dodging the poor tackle attacks, the Water Pokémon swiped hard against the now frail bodies of the Geodudes.

"Water Pulse!" Misty shouted.

The powerful water blast rendered the two Rocket Pokémon unconscious, unable to battle. The Rocket's returned their Pokémon in defeat, prompting the other two to step up.

"I choose you!" they shouted together.

A stubby Tangela and a mangy looking Jolteon appeared, ready for battle.

"Hmm," Misty cocked her head to one side. "A grass and an electric Pokémon. Well, at least you're smarter than the last two." Her tone didn't even hint of fear. Misty recalled her Empoleon.

"This calls for a very special Pokémon," Misty said, throwing another ball in the air. A large dragon type Pokémon with white jagged fins appeared in front of her, gnashing its large fangs together.

"Holy…" one of the Rockets gasped.

"Tangela, Constrict it now!" The vine Pokémon acknowledged mechanically and extended it vines to Misty's Gyarados.

"Flame thrower!" Misty commanded. The long dragon responded by flipping its head back and launched a massive barrage of fire against the tiny vines. The fire engulfed the grass Pokémon entirely, leaving it a burnt crisp.

"Tangela!" the Rocket shouted, quickly recalling it.

The last Rocket frowned, refusing to be intimidated by a puny girl. "Jolteon, Thunderbolt!"

"Jolt! Jolt!" the lightning dog barked. It shook its body, provoking a massive electric attack. The move hit Gyarados with a direct hit. It shrieked in pain.

"Hang in there, Gyarados!" Misty pleaded. "Now use Leer!"

The eyes of the serpent glowed red, freezing its opponent dead in its tracks.

"Jolteon, try to move!" the Rocket commanded to no avail.

"Allow me," Misty shouted, already with her next attack. "Gyarados, Dragon Rage!"

Misty's Gyarados thrashed violently and launched a powerful orange beam at Jolteon, knocking it to the ground. The Jolteon whimpered and tried to stand up.

Time to finish these punks off for good.

Misty eyes narrowed to the Rockets. "Finish them!"

* * *

Ash looked above. The sun had disappeared under the massing clouds and blocked the light. It grew cold, ominous and the boy suddenly felt his face become wet. It started with a few drops then grew to a full drizzle. In a matter of seconds Ash was completely soaked.

He blew some raindrops off his bangs and wiped his face to no avail. Ash walked cautiously toward the other side of the roof and knelt beside a large skylight. He looked down and managed to peek inside.

He could see him. "Gary," he mumbled. The myriads of raindrops tapped the glass. They landed everywhere, like the bullets of a machine gun spraying the tough surfaces of the building.

"Come on, Misty. What's taking you so long?" he whined. Ash knew he couldn't make his move even though his enemy was literally within reach. All he had to do was jump through the skylight and face his former friend one final time.

But he knew better; Misty taught him that. His ploy would prove worthless with Gary controlling every Pokémon within his range. He had to be patient.

"Wait? Whose idea was it to have me wait?" he asked already knowing the answer. Maybe he should have thought that through. Ash continued to listen to the raindrops pelting against the surfaces. They grew louder, louder. More and more they weren't sounding like harmless raindrops.

"What the--?"

They were mechanical now. They sounded like a propeller. A large black helicopter eased its way from the sky, dropping lazily from the obese cloud formations. It hovered in the air, roaring so loud Ash covered his ears. The blades spun so fast it looked like a thin black circle haloed over the aircraft. Four black ropes fell, followed by four agile looking Rockets.

They released the grips on their lifelines in unison and landed on the far side of the roof.

Ash stared coldly at them, the annoyance of waiting fluttering away from his mind. The squad of Rocket's walked closer and settled a few yards in front of him, folding their arms.

"Let me guess, you must be Gary's muscle."

His wit was not matched. They stood there, arms crossed, fully soaked and looking mean as hell.

"Guess we better get started then," Ash smiled; gesturing them to advance.

Three of the four Rockets smiled evilly and ran toward the revered agent. Ash took notice of his trio of opponents and settled back in his stance. The middle Rocket growled, leaping right for him. Ash immediately went to the ground, back against the roof. As the Rocket flew over, Ash planted his boots in his gut and flung him over. The Rocket grunted to the initial contact then screamed as his momentum took him over the side of the building. Ash flipped back to his feet and faced his remaining foes.

The two Rockets decided to attack Ash together, side by side. Ash ducked quickly to a right hook and angled backward to a high kick. Before the Rocket could retract, Ash caught his foot in mid air and threw it to the side hitting the other unsuspecting Rocket square in the jaw, sending him away.

Ash attacked the unbalanced Rocket with an inside crescent kick outside crescent kick combo. The grunt stumbled backward and raised his head quick enough to see Ash execute a perfect flying kick to his face. He landed a few feet away unconscious.

The third Rocket picked himself off the cement, nursing his aching jaw. He spat into the ground, his blood mixing in with the falling rainwater. Ash had his back against him, now was his chance. He ran and wrapped his arms around the agent. Ash grunted and tried to free himself under his grasp. The Rocket released one of his hands and struck Ash in the kidney several times.

Ash flinched but refused to submit any further. He snapped his head back, breaking the Rocket's nose (a move he learned from a certain redhead). The Rocket released his grip and involuntary tended to his nose. With the grunt still behind, Ash back fisted him then quickly followed with a reverse roundhouse kick to the face. The battered Rocket stumbled to the ground. Ash's perfectly timed butterfly kick was the last thing he saw.

Ash knelt in a pool of collected water for a second. He raised his head and rose slowly. Two Rockets were out of commission, the other lost over the side of the building. Only one remained. The lead Rocket pressed his lips together and unbuttoned his black overcoat. A grey tank top was painted underneath, revealing his bulky frame.

"Your reputation precedes you, Agent Ketchum," the lead Rocket shouted above the rainstorm. He was dressed in a grey/black military camouflage uniform. "But you don't stand a chance against me." The two started circling each other.

"Probably not," Ash said in jest. He matched him, step for step.

"I've studied your profile, fighting style and all your missions. I spent months preparing myself for this battle. I am Commander Razor and I know everything about you!"

"Everything? Damn, Razor you need a girlfriend."

Ash's playful demeanor only enraged him further. He growled and hit his fists together. "You're scared of me; that's why you joke!"

"The only person I'm scared of isn't here. She's busy taking down your stupid machine," he smiled.

The Rocket finally broke the circle and engaged.

* * *

"Fall back! Fall back!"

"No!" Paul shouted, pressing further into the battle front. "Hold your positions! We can't lose our ground!" A missile whizzed by his head and exploded a few yards away from him. Paul jumped forward to avoid the blast radius. He sneered angrily and pointed to the advancing lines.

"Ursaring, Hyper Beam! Electabuzz, Thunderbolt! Magmotar, Fire Blast!"

His three Pokémon executed their special attacks perfectly, breaking a hole in the Rocket's lines. Paul grabbed the collar of a nearby younger officer.

"Tell alpha unit to follow me through the middle. The rest of the units cover our approach, we have to get inside!"

"But sir—"

"Now!" he interrupted, releasing the man from his grip.

"Keep going!" Paul shouted, debris flying all around him. "Keep going!"

* * *

Misty walked over the fallen grunts, carefully choosing her steps. She reached her objective at the end of the hallway and opened the door.

"Oh my god—Psyduck!"

A large machine occupied most of the room. On top was a narrow glass cylinder, with Psyduck trapped inside. The yellow duck Pokémon murmured and sunk in its prison, electrodes sticking to his head. The machine started to roar, sucking the energy from Psyduck's mind. Psyduck winced and squirmed in obvious discomfort.

"Psyduck!" Misty shouted, running to her Pokémon. A muscular arm suddenly grabbed her. She yelped as it closed tighter around her windpipe. The Rocket's other hand wrapped around her waist. Misty struggled to get away but the man was too strong. She tried with all her strength to pull away but her resistance didn't loosen the man's grip.

"You're not going anywhere!" the Rocket grunted.

Misty dug her feet in the ground and pushed backwards. The unprepared Rocket stumbled and slammed his back against the hard metal surface of the machine. He yelled in pain and relaxed his grip. Misty was pulled back initially, but managed to spin away from his hands.

She whipped around and reached for her belt. Her hand dropped helplessly to her side.

"Looking for this," the brawny Rocket smiled, dangling her belt with her Pokéballs in front of her. "You're a pretty strong trainer, girly," he paused, tossing the belt behind him. "Let's see how well you fair without them."

Misty swallowed and resumed a defensive stance.

"Besides," the grunt started. "It's been a while since I've had fun with a girl." A creepy snicker followed.

"After I'm done with you," Misty paused. "You're going to regret that."

* * *

Ash dodged Razor's barrage of attacks. He sidestepped a mid kick and ducked under a high jab. As he did, the agent connected with an ankle sweep, taking out Razor's legs from under him. The Rocket landed on his side.

Agent Ketchum rose and bounded toward his fallen opponent. Razor thrust his boot out, connecting it with Ash's stomach. He fell back, clutching his gut.

The Rocket grinned and regained his height, running to the off-balanced agent. He jumped in the air and hammered his fists down. Ash crossed his forearms together and nullified the attack. Using the Rocket's momentum, flung him on his back.

Razor flew and splashed in a pool of water. He regained his composure immediately and rolled out of the way of Ash's falling kick. The Commander spun around and connected a fist against the back of Ash's head. The agent snapped forward. Taking the advantage, Razor stepped into his punch and buried it into Ash's mid section.

Ash released all of his air in one cough and fell against the roof, rainwater mixing in with his blood. Commander Razor laughed menacingly as he towered over the fallen agent. The agent rolled to a crouch position, spitting some blood out.

"Ready to give up?" Razor laughed.

Ash didn't reply. This guy was all talk. He let the water wash away the blood staining his face.

The Commanding Rocket aimed another low punch to the crouching agent but Ash quickly spun away. Now facing his opponents back, Ash kicked him in the back of the leg, bringing him down to knees. He pounded his elbow on his face then round house kicked him to the ground.

Razor didn't even get a chance to come up with an intimidating comment. Ash was ready for his next move. With his enemy still on the ground, Ash high jumped in the air and folded his leg, aiming his knee to the Rocket's skull. Razor managed to roll out of the way before his head was caved him. He turned and threw another wave of punch combos. Ash continued to dodge and block them with his forearms and hands. Ash took the offensive and countered with a series of fluid motions of his own.

The Commander blocked most of them, but wasn't quick enough to offset the last hit to his side. With his enemy temporarily disabled, Ash took it up a notch. He raked his left fist across Razor's face, then with his entire might uppercut him in the air.

The Rocket seemed to fly forever; he skid and finally crashed against the door leading to the lower levels. The Commanding Rocket could barely hear Ash's footsteps against the cement roof. He tried to crawl back up using the door for balance, but it was too late.

With his remaining power, Ash vaulted in the air and executed a perfect flying side kick square into Razor's chest. The man's body flew through the door and landed against the railing to the downward leading stairway.

Ash stood over the defeated Commander, surrounded by a hundred broken pieces of wood. Finally out of the rain, Ash wiped his face allowing a pool to form where he stood. He waited a few seconds, and then ventured back into the storm.

"…Ketchum."

Ash stopped and turned to the sound of his name. Razor was smiling weakly. He unhooked a hand grenade from one of the straps on his chest. He struggled to hold it up. His thumb flicked off the ring and released the trigger. It clinked and bounced to the ground.

He didn't even process. He just ran, pumping his legs the oppose way. Razor's laughter still rang in the air with the tapping of the raindrops and Ash's labored breathing. 3…2...1…

BOOM!

The blast carried him off the ground. He yelled and covered his head with his arms. He prepared for the worse but landed at his original mark: The skylight.

Or what was left of it.

CRASH!

The agent yelled again, falling through the ceiling. He landed on the ground with shards of broken glass bouncing around him. Agent Ketchum coughed and held his aching head. The now broken skylight let in the storm allowing the rain to seep in. The boy coughed again.

"You sure know how to make an entrance, Ash," Brock mumbled.

"What?" Ash was still coming back to reality. His vision was still fuzzy, ears ringing from the blast.

"I'd expect nothing less from my friend, Ash," Gary smirked crookedly. He motioned the two sentries over to pick him up. They held him by both shoulders.

"It seems I owe Brock an apology," Gary started. "I didn't think you could penetrate my forces so easily."

"Gary!" Ash shouted, blocking everything else out.

"Oh, please don't start with all the hero crap! Face it, you've lost!"

"Never!" Ash refused. _"I never compromise, I never accept defeat!!"_

The new leader of Team Rocket froze to his familiar statement. Only he and Ash knew the full implications of the words. For a second, they were kids again with no problems or fears.

"Nice try, Ash," Gary snorted, returning to the present. "But that won't work on me; I've left that part of myself behind."

"I know you have, you bastard! I'm reminding you who you once were! What you've lost!"

"No!" Gary retorted. "You won't suck me into this! You don't know how much I've lost! How could you?"

"Gary," Ash sternly shouted, still being pulled back by the Rocket henchmen. They slammed him to his knees. Ash grunted and looked into the eyes of his once oldest friend. "I'm the _only_ person who knows how much you've lost."

* * *

**THREE AND A HALF YEARS AGO**

He sat on the cold metal bench holding his head up with his hands. The boy's half fingered gloves covered the sides of his face. The trainer sighed heavily, nervously tapping the tile with his foot. It echoed through the walls of the locker room.

A small yellow mouse stood beside him and tugged on his jeans. He resurfaced from his void and managed an uneven grin to his friends comfort.

"Pika-chu," he squeaked.

"I appreciate it, buddy. I'm just a little nervous."

"Of course you are," a voice drew both their attention. "This is the most important day of your life. You better be nervous!"

Ash smiled. The sight of fellow Pallet Town civilians lifted his spirits. Gary Oak strolled in the locker room, steadily pushing his grandfather in a steel wheel chair.

"Hi Professor Oak, hi Gary!" Ash waved, trotting up to them.

"Hi Ash," Professor Oak smiled thinly.

Ash frowned. It had been a while since he last saw the Professor. He was so busy with training he didn't get a chance to phone him even during breaks. He had changed. The elderly man had lost some weight and had started to lose the color in his skin. His lines under his eyes were more defined; reminding him of the little energy he had left.

"How are you, Professor?" Ash asked, with worry in his voice.

"Oh, I'm fine," he replied modestly. "This wheelchair is just a precaution. I'm afraid I don't have as much strength as I used to. Gary was kind enough to volunteer as my chauffer for the day."

"Yeah, that's what happened," Gary mumbled good-naturedly.

"How are you doing, my boy?"

A long hesitation was his answer.

"He's shaking in his boots, look at him!" Gary laughed.

"I am not!" Ash replied. He lied. Nothing was further from the truth.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Professor Oak calmly reset the conversation. "It's normal for you to feel anxious."

"Anxious?" Ash repeated. "I can deal with anxiety. This is full on _dread_!" The aches in his stomach started to return; Ash exhaled deeply to calm his nerves.

"This is my whole career, my dream on the line!" Ash continued. "I—I don't think I can do this!"

"Nonsense," Professor Oak raised a hand. "Ash, you've come so far from that ten year old child I gave a first Pokémon to. You've progressed so much."

"Yeah, Ash you have," Gary added, surprisingly with no scathing tone.

Professor Oak coughed in the sleeve of his coat before resuming. "In fact, both you and Gary have developed quite well in your respective fields. And I'm lucky to have seen it all. Gary come over here," Professor Oak gestured.

Gary readily complied, joining Ash in front of Professor Oak.

The older man smiled sparingly against his pale complexion. "I just want to say I'm _proud_ of the two of you."

"Thanks, Grandpa."

"Thank you."

"Ash, you're a future Pokémon Master. And Gary, you're well on your way to becoming a great Pokémon Researcher. You both have overcome many obstacles and road blocks."

Both Ash and Gary gave a quick smile at one another.

"I want to give the two of you something," Oak said, reaching in his white coat pocket.

"What is it, Gramps?"

"Something very dear to me." Oak fished out a small Pokeball. But is wasn't an ordinary ball nor was it a state of the art Pokeball. It looked ancient. A hollowed out acorn from Kurt's oldest designs. It even had the gear to open the ball manually.

"This is my very first Pokeball," he said. He paused to cough into a handkerchief.

"From when you were a trainer, Professor?"

"Yes," he answered. "I've kept it with me for some fifty years." Professor Oak struggled with it but managed to snap it in two. "And I'm giving it to the two of you." He extended his hands, half a sphere in each one.

Gary was beside himself. "T-thanks, Grandpa."

"Yes, thank you," Ash smiled, showing it off to Pikachu.

"Pika!"

"But why are you giving this to us?"

Professor Oak exhaled softly. "It's a reminder."

"A reminder of what, Grandpa?"

"No matter what happens. No matter what circumstances or changes might befall you, _never compromise, never accept defeat. _This that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" they both said in unison.

"Good."

And just like that, the wrench in Ash's gut was gone. He straightened fully and smiled with his new found courage.

The gentle old man smiled warmly. "Now make us proud, Ash."

"Yeah, show 'em what Pallet kids are made of!" Gary added.

Ash nodded and allowed Pikachu to run up his shoulder. He walked through the tunnel: toward the thunderous roars of the crowds, toward his opponent, toward his destiny.

* * *

**THREE AND A HALF YEARS LATER**

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Lance demanded. His sudden outburst earned him a swift punch to the face. Lance turned and spit blood to his side. The Rocket cracked his knuckles and told him to shut up.

"What's wrong, Lance? Don't you like being at the mercy of another? I forgot you only like it when you leech off others."

"What are you talking about, Oak?"

"My Grandfather," Gary said with one frail breath as if he hadn't said his name in years. "My Grandfather is dead because of you! The Elite Four pushed him too hard and he paid with his life."

"Samuel Oak was a good man, Gary. We all valued his contributions to the League."

"No, you only wanted his work, his research! You never cared about _him_!"

"You're wrong, Gary," Ash interrupted. "He sacrificed for his job. He'd do it again if he had a second chance."

"Well, thanks to the Elite Four we'll never know, will we?"

"It's not our fault!" Brock yelled.

"Yes it is."

Everyone in the room turned to the somber Lance, head bowed in disgrace.

"Lance?" Ash asked.

The Dragon Master took a deep breath. "I know now we were wrong. Team Rocket kept growing and growing. We tried so hard to fight back but we just got weaker and weaker. We pushed everyone too hard, we demanded so much from you. I'm sorry, Gary. I know now I should have done things differently."

"You see?" Gary shouted. "He admits it! Murderer!

"No matter what the League's faults are, it doesn't justify what you're doing!"

"Enough!" Gary shouted. "I'm ending this right now! Pikachu!"

"Pikachu!" the electric mouse replied.

"Thunder!!"

Pikachu focused his energy, humming the first two syllables of his name. Sparks of energy jumped from his body as the room started to heat.

"Pikachu, if you can hear me, you have to resist!" No use.

Ash inched back. "Misty…what's taking you?"

* * *

Misty fell to the floor, overpowered by the strength of her opponent. She struggled for freedom, but his massive hands forced her back down. He was almost on top of her now, surprisingly having a difficult time pinning the spunky red head. She breathed heavily, refusing to be trapped. His face inched closer and Misty could feel his hands crawl against her skin up to her throat.

His fingers squeezed, thumbs inching against her trachea. Her struggling didn't matter anymore, her breathing becoming less and less labored. No, not like this!

As Misty wriggled for room, she realized her legs weren't confined as the rest of her body. It wasn't a conscious effort more than it was instinct. Misty all her surviving energy, bent her leg and drove them into the man's privates.

The Rocket lost all his breathe in a single second as the sudden agony in his groin relinquished his tight grip on Misty's neck. Instead, his hands drove straight to his lower half, keeling over to the unimaginable pain.

Misty narrowed her eyes unsympathetically to the Rocket on his knees. The last thing the Rocket experienced was size six shoes driving directly into his face. The blistering pain enveloped the man's entire body. His vision blurred and body numbed before he fainted.

"I told you you'd regret it," Misty sneered walking over to the machine. Misty tapped a few buttons on the display panel that released her Psyduck. In an instant, she was at her Pokémon's side detaching the wires from his body. The Pokémon dropped his eyes and groaned unhappily.

"I know, I know," she consoled, holding it close to her. "Don't worry, I'm here."

The water trainer hopped off the machine, with her Pokémon still in hand and made her way to her belt.

Misty unhooked a Pokeball and released it immediately.

"Gyarados, you know what to do!" she commanded with no hesitation. The large dragon Pokémon shrieked viciously, growing a large energy in its mouth.

"Hyper Beam!"

* * *

"Move!" Paul shouted as he ran, followed closely by alpha unit, or what was left of it. Only three officers remained. The commanding agent waited for a moment, allowing his companions to catch their breath. They were inside, thanks to Paul's impressive flanking maneuver. He leaned against the wall and favored his right shoulder.

"Hey, are you alright?" Officer Jenny asked.

"I'm fine—hurry, we need to get to the brig. It's not too far from here."

"Why would we go there?"

"Most likely Team Rocket put all the other agents there. It'll make it a lot easier if we free them."

"Right," she agreed, eying the entrance they just entered from. Another squad of Rockets were seconds away.

"You there!" she pointed at the remaining two officers. "Take care of them; make sure they don't cut off our approach!"

"Yes, ma'am!" they said and loaded their weapons. One flung a chair on the ground, the first steps to his barricade. He motioned the other to find more things to block the entry way.

Paul and Jenny took down the hallway, running as fast as they could. They weaved their way through the corridors, guided by the agent's instincts. As Paul veered right, he ran into a Rocket turning the same corner. Paul couched low and stuck his fist in the Rocket's gut. The unsuspecting man groaned and bent over his fist, his cap falling off his head. Paul yanked him up by the hair, crossed his face with a left jab and threw his head against the wall. The poor grunt slid unconscious to the floor.

'Brutal stuff,' Jenny thought.

"Let's go!" Paul ran without skipping a beat. Paul reached his destination and tapped the key panel to the right. The door slid open. Paul raced inside; eyeing the three Rockets facing the brig. Using both hands he grabbed the two Rockets closest to him and slammed their heads together. They were out before they hit the ground.

The third turned to see Paul jump kick him dead in the chest. He flew back, knocking against the bars of the cell. He was about to counter but a massive hand grabbed his neck from the back and pulled his head back into the metal bars. The grunt slid to the floor and fainted.

"Paul," the tall man said behind the bars.

"Master Bruno, are you okay? Where are the other members of the Council?" Paul asked, opening the cell doors. The rest of the agents flooded out, ready for orders.

"We're fine. Team Rocket put Agatha, Lorelei and the rest of the agents in the southwest detention area. But some Rockets took Lance and Brock a while ago."

"Any idea where they took them?"

"Probably to the boss."

"Yeah, they must have been brought to Gary."

"Gary?" Bruno echoed. "The missing researcher from Pallet?"

Paul sighed. "It's a long story. I'll fill you in along the way. They probably took them to the Council Chambers at the highest level."

The room suddenly quaked, followed by a stifled explosion. Everyone lost their balance. Paul caught Officer Jenny before she fell.

"Thanks," she said, blushing slightly.

"What was that?!" Paul said.

"I'm not sure, but I don't think it was good," Bruno pointed to a few agents to his left. "You agents go and rescue the other group. We'll head to the Council Chambers. Let's move out!"

* * *

They all heard the muffled explosion. The dark room shook, leaving those standing unbalanced. Gary stumbled backwards and tried to catch himself from falling. The Rocket staggered away from Ash, releasing their grip from his shoulder.

The metal ring on Gary's head began to malfunction. Before Gary could reach for it, the headset buzzed and shocked him. Gary arched his back in pain and tried to tear the halo off his head. The man yelled and fell to the floor.

"Pika?" Pikachu looked around, wondering where it was.

"Way to go, Mist," Ash whispered, rising to his feet. Ash focused his attention to the two remained sentries. A lightning fast palm snapped one guard's head backward, followed by a direct round house kick to his face. The other guard curled his arm around the agent's neck, trying to disable him. Ash answered with a swift elbow in the side, flipped him over and buried his heel his against his temple.

Ash turned to Gary who had finally managed to tear the headset off. He breathed heavily and gingerly got up.

"No!—I won't let this happen!" Gary shouted, trying a poorly aimed right hook toward his old friend. Ash easily slapped it away and struck him dead center. The Rocket Leader found himself staring at the ground.

"Gary, give yourself up," Ash tried to help him up.

The researcher's hand wrapped around a sharp piece of glass laying next him.

"Never!" he shouted, thrusting it into Ash's side. He winced and stumbled backward, feeling the shard pierce his skin.

"Pika!" Pikachu called.

"Ash!" Brock did the same.

The agent raised a hand to silence their concern. With one quick motion, he removed the half bloodied broken shard from his side and tossed it away.

"Care for some more, friend?" Gary taunted. Grabbing another shard off the ground, he swiped at him furiously. Ash carefully ducked under his attack and connected a fist under his chin, sending him flying to the opposite wall.

Gary grunted, still clutching to the piece of glass.

"I know I'm no match for you, Ash," he said, nursing his jaw. "But one way or another I'm going to have my revenge." Gary tapped a mechanical device strapped to his wrist. Suddenly the wall behind him started to move. It was a secret door. Out came another Rocket, with a young red head in his grip.

"Misty!" Ash yelled.

"You know, I was kinda surprised you brought Misty along with you, Ash. Then again, she would always hang around you, wouldn't she? I wonder why," he smiled, as he took Misty for himself. He was behind her now, one arm around her body the other holding the sharp piece of glass against her neck.

"Ash, please…" Misty managed to cry out.

"Let her go!" Ash demanded, on the verge of losing control.

Gary kept the same eerie tone. "The thing is, I knew how to take my revenge on the League. All I had to do was take away their power and they would fall. But I could never figure out how to hurt you. Nothing seems to work on you," Gary paused. "Except for her. Now you're going to experience the three years of pain I had to go through in one second!"

"Ash!" Misty cried.

"Misty, close your eyes!" Ash yelled. She shut them immediately, along with Ash.

"PIKACHU, FLASH!"

Pikachu ran and high jumped in the air. "CHU!!"

A sudden burst of light flashed from Pikachu's body, blinding whoever did not look away. Gary yelled, dropped the piece of glass and pressed his palms against his face.

Ash quickly dove and grabbed Misty away from her captors. As soon as they hit the ground and Ash knew they were out of range he commanded Pikachu one last time.

"Thunder!"

The massive special attack hit Gary and the other Rocket, enveloping them entirely in electricity. Gary yelped helplessly and fell to the ground, burns on every inch of his body. Small streams of smoke and tiny sparks emitted from his tattered clothes. With his eyes barely able to remain open, he saw Ash get up and stand a few feet from him.

"I just—" he coughed softly. "I just wanted him to be proud of me."

Ash's remained emotionless, reached in his pocket and pulled something out. The half sphere floated between them and landed on Gary's shirt, just low enough so he could see what it was.

"Look at it," Ash said, without breaking eye contact. "He was always proud of us. He was always proud of you. You were my friend, Gary—my brother. Now I can hardly stand to even look at you."

The doors opened as Bruno, Paul, Officer Jenny and a few officers entered the Council Chamber room. Ash tore his eyes from his enemy and signaled the others.

"Take him away."

The officers grabbed the leader of Team Rocket, the carried him out of the room. Paul and Officer Jenny released Brock and Lance from their restraints as Bruno informed Lance of their successful retaking of Indigo.

In the aftermath, Ash slowly turned and looked intently at Misty standing by herself. As if an undeniable magnetism drew them, they walked silently to each other and embraced. Misty leaned her forehead on his chest, arms gently wrapped around his waist. He held her softly in his arms, resting his cheek against her fire-lit hair. She released just enough to look up at him. He stared back into her beautiful cerulean eyes.

"Are you okay?" she whispered softly.

"...I am now."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

"Tell me how I lost my power…" – _Conspiracy, Paramore_

* * *

**A/N** – Chapter 7 will be the last chapter, appropriately titled "My Heart." It will tie up Ash and Misty's story line. For all you Paramore fans out there, try to guess what quote I'll be using for the last chapter. If you've paid attention to the issues Ash has been facing, it shouldn't be too difficult. Reviews are always appreciated.


	7. My Heart

**A/N –** This song is so good I'm giving this chapter two quotes. Enjoy!

* * *

"I am finding out that maybe I was wrong…" – _My Heart, Paramore_

_

* * *

_**  
All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 7 – **My Heart**

**

* * *

  
**

A large door. A long exhale. Her steamy breath disappeared into the cold. She entered.

"Here goes nothing."

* * *

He sat by himself, staring at his shoes knocking together. He bent forward slightly and locked his fingers.

Ash didn't like being alone. Every time he shuffled, sniffed or coughed, the sounds echoed off the walls just as lonesome. He never realized how uncomfortable it felt before. But the more he thought about it the more he realized who was to blame. He was.

"I should have known you'd be here," a new echo reached him.

"Huh?"

A taller man with spiky hair entered the training room and craned his neck. "What are you doing up there?"

"Nothing," he responded with a pop of his shoulders, "just thinking."

"Mind if I join you?"

The younger boy agreed silently. Brock walked to the wall, grabbed the knotted ropes and climbed twenty feet to his companion.

"Wow, it's been a long time since I've done that," Brock admitted, taking his seat next to Ash. He sat back and let his legs dangle off the edge. The Rock trainer stole a quick glance of his friend busy twiddling with his thumbs.

"So," he began after a long pause. "I've been looking all over for you, Ash."

"What for?"

"To check up on you, I guess. How are you doing?"

Ash's tone remained as low as possible. "Why would I need to be checked on? I'm fine."

"Well, it's been two days since the Team Rocket incident. Everyone's still kinda getting over it. None of us knew what Gary was really involved in. It took everyone by surprise. You're his closest friend."

"_Was_ his closest friend," Ash finished.

Brock nodded. "You know, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. How could someone so good stoop so low?"

"Maybe," Ash paused and unearthed the rest. "Deep down under all the rage and hatred he was really lonely and just wanted a friend."

"I guess," Brock murmured, unconvinced.

"Where's Gary now?"

"He was transferred to Saffron City's high security prison yesterday. His trial is scheduled in a few weeks."

Ash did not acknowledge his answer; he just sat there noticeably silent. Brock was about to continue but noticed his quiet demeanor. He took the initiative and changed the subject.

"I think I owe you an apology, Ash."

"For what?" he turned.

"Do you remember the last time we were in this training room together?"

"I remember you saying I would never be a great agent," Ash grunted with a shade of resentment.

"I told you that you lacked _balance_; that you needed to spend time doing other things rather than invest all your energy in work and training."

"I remember."

"Well, I was wrong. Because of your relentless training and dedication to your job, you managed to defeat Gary and end Team Rocket's hold on Kanto."

Brock's praise did not move the agent's disposition. He spoke only when needed. The older boy resumed. "You saved the day, Ash. Because of your bravery and courage you saved the day. You're a _hero_."

Ash shook his head. There was that word again.

"It's the reason why you're being honored later today," Brock continued.

"Big deal," Ash grumbled sarcastically. When Lance gave him the "good news" yesterday all he could manage was a cheap smile and something that barely qualified as gratitude. Maybe that was the source of his emptiness.

Brock narrowed his eyes to his indifference. He stared deep into his countenance, trying to decipher his bizarre behavior. No use. Understanding Ash Ketchum border lined on the impossible.

"It is a big deal, Ash," Brock said raising his voice. "Only Elite Four members have been given the Indigo Metal of Honor. You're going to be the first person not on the council to get it."

Ash's expression did not waver.

Brock's patience thinned. "What's wrong with you, Ash?"

"I don't think I deserve it." Finally, a meaningful sentence out of him. "Why isn't Misty getting one?"

"Misty?" Brock repeated. "She was recognized for her efforts already, remember? Lance gave her a ribbon and some grant money. I think Lorelei even offered her some private Water Pokémon training lessons. You know how much Misty idolizes her. What more could we have done?"

He shrugged softly with no words attached.

"Is that what's bothering you? Misty?"

"Brock," the boy began, forgetting to answer his question. "Misty was the reason I was able to take Team Rocket down in the first place. I couldn't have done it without her."

"What do you mean? I thought you and Paul organized the counter attack."

"I'm not talking about that. Misty believed in me when no one else did. She gave me the strength when I needed it the most."

"That sounds like Misty," Brock nodded. "She's always cared about her friends, you know that, Ash."

"I know—but it was like old times. It was just like when we were younger, Brock! We battled, helped each other, we even argued." For a moment Ash was ten years old again, reliving memories of foreign regions and mysterious Pokémon. They were children, without a care in the world, under the countless stars with their determination to guide them. He was never alone then; he always had his friends to rely on. Ash smiled; something he hadn't done in a long time.

"I heard you two were quite the tandem back there," Brock chuckled.

"You know, I think traveling with you guys was the best years of my life," Ash said, still stuck in his gentle musings.

"I miss it too," Brock agreed.

"I get this really weird feeling whenever I think about her."

"Really!?" Brock gasped. "What kind of feeling, Ash?" His interest almost landed on the dangerous side.

"I don't know." Ash rubbed the back of his head, trying to sift through his words. "But I think about her all time, even when I don't want to. It gets really hard to breathe and I can't think straight." He turned to Brock. "You probably don't understand a word I'm saying, huh?"

His words incited a laugh. Brock tried to restrain a much larger smile currently occupying his face. At least he knew what was wrong with him now.

"Actually, Ash—I know exactly what you're talking about."

"Really?"

Brock broke into a low chuckle that gradually formed into full-on laughter. He shook his head and tried to regain his composure.

"What? What's so funny?" the boy demanded.

"I have a confession to make, Ash," Brock managed to say after a few lingering laughs. "The _real_ reason I'm here is because Lance asked me to make sure you were coming to the ceremony later today."

"Oh," Ash trailed off.

"You can't blame him. Getting you to show up at League events isn't exactly your strong suit. It's nearly impossible."

Ash nodded; he had to agree.

"I'll be completely honest with you, Ash. You've disappointed the league a lot. Hell, you've disappointed me too. You skip agent meetings and flake out on official league functions. Whenever I call you out on it, you always give me some lame excuse about forgetting or training."

"What's your point?" Ash asked slightly irked. He wasn't too thrilled about listening to a list of all his faults.

Brock grabbed one of the hanging ropes below and slid down. The older boy reached the ground and walked toward the exit.

"My point is," he paused. "I _wouldn't_ be disappointed if you didn't show up for the ceremony—if it was for Misty."

Ash didn't say a word. What could he say to that?

Brock stopped in the threshold, freezing the automatic doors open.

"Go find her, Ash. Tell her everything you told me." One step forward, the doors shut and he was gone, leaving Ash alone again.

Ash breathed in, looked down with eyes of _uncertainty_ and continued staring at his shoes.

* * *

Lance scanned the massive auditorium filled to capacity. Every seat was taken; a few even had to stand in the back. The sounds of chattering voices and inaudible conversations filled the air. The Dragon Master leaned forward and peeked at his company. Bruno and Lorelei were to his left. Brock and Agatha sat on his right. In front of him was a tall podium, waiting to be taken.

He rose, and immediately the indistinct voices silenced. His footsteps could be heard through the room as he approached the stand and tapped on the microphone. A brief squeal of feedback introduced him. All eyes, ears and lights focused in him.

The Master cleared his throat before speaking. "Good afternoon." His commanding voice sent a shiver down everyone's spine.

"I'd like to thank everyone for coming to this ceremony. We're here for a very special reason and I'm glad you all can share it with us." Lance looked down to his notes. The formalities were out of the way. Now for the hard part.

"Something happened to me a few days ago; something that I'm willing to share with you now." He paused in between. "As you well know, two days ago the Indigo Plateau was infiltrated by Team Rocket. We fell in a matter of hours, and for a brief period Kanto was at the mercy of terrorists."

A few grumbles aspersed through the audience.

Lance continued. "But in our darkest hour I saw the light. I realized the Pokémon League was partly responsible for what happened. Gary Oak was a good man." Emphasis on the 'was.' "But we put too much pressure on researchers like him and his grandfather—on _all_ of you. We were too busy looking to build our defenses; we failed to consider those who fight for us every single day."

He hesitated again. "Because of that, I am sorry."

Low whispers were heard. An apology by the council, especially from the proud Dragon Master was unprecedented. Lance took another glance at the other members of the Elite Four and Brock. The Rock trainer urged him to continue.

"If this experience has taught us anything, it's the ever pressing need for change. The council and department heads have talked in depth. Things are going to be different now. We're planning on implementing different protocols and structures so something like this never happens again. We want to let you know, from the bottom of our hearts, that we appreciate everything you do for us. Your sacrifices will not go unnoticed. If you let us, together we will build a much better, much stronger Pokémon League!"

The audience applauded. Lance let it go on for a minute before raising his hands to temper the crowds' enthusiasm. They slowly obeyed and became silent again.

"But I wouldn't be standing here today if it wasn't for a very special young man," Lance smiled. "This agent has shown a pattern of inconsistency, dissension and tardiness…" a low chuckled permeated through the assembly. "But despite his many faults, he has proven to be an extremely capable agent. He passed basic and advanced training faster than anyone in League history. He wins the annual martial arts and Pokémon battling tournament every year—he is a Pokémon Master, after all."

Lance laughed to himself before continuing. "This young man's courage through this catastrophe was unparalleled. He showed incredible strength, bravery and intuition—and we owe him our lives. _I_ owe him my life."

The commotion steadily grew; all they needed was his name as the catalyst.

"Today we honor him with the highest award possible: The Indigo Metal of Honor. This marks the first time a non member of the Elite Four has attained it, but I can't think of anyone more deserving than him." The rumbles grew louder.

"So, without further ado, ladies and gentleman—" Lance extended his arm to his right, "…I give you Ash Ketchum!"

The audience broke into a standing ovation; screams, whistles and hollers peppered throughout the thunderous applause. The spotlight shifted from Lance and pointed toward the left curtain of the stage, every head turning in anticipation. Just one glimpse of him and the crowd would tear the place apart.

A few seconds went by; then a few more. Nothing.

The ovation slowly waned. Lance laughed nervously and played with his collar.

"Uh—Ash Ketchum, everyone," he tried again, last syllable echoing.

Thousands of eyes glued to the spotlight waiting for a face, a stray movement—something! Lance covered the microphone and looked behind him.

"Where is he?!" he snapped. The rest of the Elite Four shared in his confusion.

"Brock," Agatha leaned and whispered in Brock's ear. "He was backstage, wasn't he?"

The Rock trainer nodded in response. Agatha gave Lance another puzzled look.

The room buzzed with whispers. "Where is he?" "I heard he didn't even know about it." "Someone check the training room."

Everyone in the room was restless—expect for one. Brock folded his arms and sat quietly, un-bothered by the tumultuous crowd. How could he be fazed with such a giant smile on his face? The spiky haired agent shook his head and started to laugh.

"Go get her, Ash," he chuckled. "Go get her…"

* * *

"May I take your coat, miss?"

The black overcoat slid off her bare shoulders and she handed it to the doorman. She held in her breathe and released fluidly before entering the main hall.

Her entrance rippled through the entire room, like tossing a pebble in a still pond. Their attention was captured by the beautiful red head gliding across the floor. Every head turned: man, woman, waiter, even the violinists stumbled on a few notes. She severed the dance floor in half; the couples parted allowing her across.

She was breathtaking. The dark sapphire dress fit perfectly to her slender form. A thin silver necklace haloed her neckline. Long white gloves ran up her forearms. Her fire-lit hair was held up in an elegant design, outshining the twinkling chandeliers suspended below the ceiling.

The young woman floated evenly to the bar and outlined the mahogany counter top with her index finger. The barkeep was completely transfixed, forgetting about the drink he was making. Perfectly applied makeup was contrasted by smooth cherry lips. She moved a stray bang from her soft milky skin and tucked it behind her ear.

"Uh—what'll it be?" he asked after a nervous gulp.

She looked at him through long eyelashes and licked her alluring lips damp before speaking.

"Blue lagoon." The words sounded sweeter than the drink.

For a moment, he forgot what a cocktail was but then scrambled for the appropriate ingredients. Ice, vodka, Blue Curacao and lemonade garnished with a lemon slice. He dropped a straw in the tall glass and slid it over.

She held the tiny straw between her teeth and sipped the sparkling blue liquid. Releasing a satisfied moan, she took a twenty from her "pocket," placed it on the counter and slid it over with her index finger.

"Keep the change." An alluring smile stripped the courage of every guy at the bar. Suddenly, intoxicating liquor found its competition. She took the glass with the tips of her fingers and disappeared back into the crowd.

* * *

Water.

The water refreshed her and made her whole, as it always did. It enveloped every inch of Misty's body; unbearably cold at first, but she eventually adapted to the temperature. She moved fluidly as if running on dry land. Her body twirled effortlessly in the clear blue liquid, only resurfacing for air. She dipped in again, swimming lap after lap in the giant Olympic sized pool. She neared the end of her final circuit, lungs begging to be used.

The orange haired swimmer broke through the surface, inhaling as much life as she could. The heaviness disappeared from her chest as she rested her elbows on the outer edge of the pool. She looked up and almost bumped noses with…

"ASH?!" some water splashed on him. "What are you doing here?!"

His new tux was ruined now, but that didn't seem to bother him. Catching Misty off-guard incited a smile.

"Here," he extended his hand, ignoring her question. He lifted her up just enough so she could gain her balance. Misty rose from the water and planted her bare feet on the cement. She stood shivering, wavy wet locks sticking to her cheeks and skin; body glistening in the light, standing over a collecting pool of water.

"What are you doing here?" her breathing still heavy.

He dodged her question a second time. Ash smirked sheepishly and grabbed Misty's waterproof overcoat hanging on a nearby bench, and tossed it to her without breaking his smile. She caught it in mid-air and slipped it on.

But her curiosity would not go unsatisfied. She looked him up and down. Why was he dressed so formal? "Ash, shouldn't you be at the League right now?"

"I think they can handle things without me or a bit," he laughed. His demeanor was intriguing. It was something she couldn't quite put a label on.

She stepped closer, closing the gap between them. "Ash—why are you here?" she asked once more. The boy rubbed the back of his head, a nervous habit he attained from youth. He couldn't evade her a third time. She wouldn't let him.

His response sputtered like a dying engine. "I—uh, came to apol—thank you. No! Apologize! I mean, to thank you!"

Misty wrinkled her forehead. "So, which is it, genius?"

Ash looked away from her stare. It was always easier to talk to her without looking directly at her. He exhaled in preparation.

"I'm sorry, Misty."

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry for the way the league treated you. You helped save the day and the only thing you got was a silly ribbon and some grant money."

"Oh," Misty whispered, as if expecting so much more. "It's fine, Ash. I like the ribbon they gave me. It's blue. Besides, I got some other things too."

"I just think—you deserve so much more."

"Really?" her face restrained a much stronger blush. "Thanks."

Ash quickly moved on. "I should thank you too."

"What for?"

"For helping me when I needed it the most. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Of course not," Misty playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "You're helpless without me, Ash. Everyone knows that." They shared an adjoining smirk.

Their banter however, did not fill the air indefinitely. An awkward pause floated unevenly between them, begging to be broken. Ash opened his mouth ready to speak, but lost his courage and shut it firmly.

"Is that it?"

Ash could not say a word. Of course there was more! There was more; so much more! But his mind was blank and his tongue mute. He was paralyzed.

Same ole' Ash. "Well, I'm hungry—I'm ordering a pizza," Misty walked past him and aimed for the swinging doors. "Want some?"

"Misty," his back still faced her. She turned at the mention of her name, hand against one of the doors.

His voice remained serious, as low as possible. "Why do you think you're not _important_ to me?"

"W-what? What do you mean?"

He did not answer her question. Ash finally faced the red head, and stepped noticeably closer. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small piece of paper. It rested in the middle of his hand, waiting to be taken.

Misty's fingers froze over his outstretched palm. She finally took and unfolded the note. She gasped slightly and almost dropped it on the ground.

"Where did you get this?" she stared at it again, reading every word carefully.

---

_ Ash,_

_ It's clear you've accomplished all your dreams. I just wish I was a part of it._

_ - Misty_

---

She could here his voice reciting the words as she scanned them again. The paper was worn from use, the ink already starting to fade. He knew them well.

"Where did you get this?" she asked again, bringing the paper at eye's length.

"I found it," he paused; "at the League function in Vermillion City."

"I thought you told me you didn't go," her irritation grew.

"Well, I came late."

Her surprise melted to anger. She crunched the paper in her hand. "You mean you _lied_ to me?!!"

"No, I—"

She didn't permit a response. An assault of accusations ensued. "I can't believe you, Ash Ketchum! We've been side by side for five days and you're just bringing this up now!?"

"Misty, you don't understand!"

"I understand perfectly! YOU LIED! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!"

Ash threw his hands in the air; the slender girl inches away in all her fury. He tried to take a few steps back but she erased the gap immediately. He retreated again, but his heels teetered at the edge of the pool. His arms circled backward to gather stability. Ash gulped nervously, realizing there was nothing stopping her from shoving him into the water.

"STOP!" he grabbed her arms to quell her onslaught. It worked surprisingly; the sudden outburst caught the Gym Leader off-guard. Ash pried the letter out of her pale fingers and ripped it to pieces. He tossed it in the air like confetti, dancing between their interlocking stare, some sticking to their clothes.

"I don't care about that!" he gasped. "I just want to know what it _meant_!" In an instant, he robbed the power away from her. Prying into the deep recesses of Misty's soul put her on the defense. Now she was moving backward. Her feelings were a locked box; hardly opened.

"Ash, don't—" she pleaded softly. It was a conversation they never once attempted. Even though she thought about it a thousand times, reality however has a way of unraveling courage. He waited. The silence filled their conversation, neither refused to break eye contact. The pressure in Misty's chest tightened. She took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "Ash, I realize I'm not the most important thing in your life. You have better things to worry about than me."

"Why would that bother you?"

"Because," she stopped to gain her strength; "because I _care_ about you, Ash. More than I've ever cared about anyone."

"How long have you felt this way?" his voice lost strength, just above a whisper.

Misty rubbed her arms for warmth before continuing. "I'm not the best confronter of feelings, but I've felt this way for a long time," she admitted, looking into his auburn eyes. "I have feelings for you, Ash. Maybe, I even love you." The strength started to drain from Misty's legs as if it took every bit of power to say the words. "How do you feel about me?" the shakiness in her voice was evident.

"I don't really know," he confessed. "I've never really considered that part of my life before." Ash shuffled to the nearby bench and sat down. "I've dedicated my life to my career for so long, I haven't had time for anything else." A brief chuckle escaped his lips. Now he knew the meaning of her letter.

Misty thinned her lips and lowered her head; his words almost crushing her.

But he continued on, staring into the now motionless pool. "But I can't imagine my life without you, Misty. I think about you all the time, even when I don't want to."

A growing hue of crimson overwhelmed her pale complexion. "Ash, have you ever thought about being _more_ than friends?" She immediately regretted the question as soon as it left her lips.

"Yes."

"Really?" Maybe there was hope for them after all.

"But every time I do, I get scared—_really_ scared."

"Scared of what?"

He was facing her now, eyes glazed in a soft look of vulnerability. "I'm scared I might lose you. I couldn't stand that, Misty. You're my best friend." The boy abruptly stood up, causing her to jump slightly. "Gosh, why is this so hard!?" he groaned and harrowed the stubborn clumps of his hair.

"I know," Misty paralleled his discouragement.

"We're too scared to try but it's too awkward just being friends! What's wrong with us?! We're not good at any of this!"

Romance, relationships, love—it was all uncharted territory. A bleak silence allowed some time, time to think.

"I know what we're good at," Misty finally interrupted, a smile bolstering her face.

"What?"

"Do you have your Pokeball's will you?" she rose and matched his level.

"Of course I do," his hand pushed back the lower half of his suit jacket, revealing six spheres attached to his belt. "Why?"

"Take the challengers box, Ash," she ordered, walking to the opposite end of the pool. "Let's do this."

"Wait. You wanna _battle_ for this?" he asked, eyebrows high as humanly possible. "We can't battle for something like this?"

Misty gave him a cocky wink. "What's wrong...afraid you might _lose_?"

Now that's going too far. "Please—you're talking to the current Pokémon Master. I'm not afraid of anything!"

Misty's smile grew. Now that's more like it. She outlined the terms. They were in her Gym, after all. "One-on-one battle. No time limit."

"You're funeral," Ash shot back.

The Leader of the Cerulean Gym unhooked one of her Pokéballs and tossed it in the air. It glided to one of the floating platforms and released her chosen Pokémon.

"Psy?" the golden duck tilted his head.

"Psyduck?! Oh, Misty you're making this _way_ too easy," he scoffed.

"Don't count out Psyduck yet, Ash," she retorted. "You've seen what he can do before. Now you're going to see why Team Rocket wanted him so badly!"

"I've got the perfect Pokémon in mind for this battle arena." With a quick flick of his wrist, the ball sailed to the opposing platform and released his choice.

"Toto! Toto! Toto!" the small crocodile energetically danced on one foot.

"Totodile!" Misty exclaimed, her heart starting to melt.

"Water Pokémon vs. Water Pokémon in a water battle field! This should be interesting."

"You know, I still think I caught that Totodile in the first place!"

"Who cares, I beat you fair and square for it, just like I'm going to beat you now, Misty!" he smiled confidently. Totodile continued dancing happily on the platform.

"I'm ready whenever you are, Ash."

A sudden realization dawned on him. "Uh, Misty—what side are we fighting for?"

"We'll figure that out later," she waved him off. Giving Ash a beat down was more important than small formalities. Misty grinned and leaned forward slightly.

"Ladies first, Ash."

The Pokémon Master growled slightly and pointed to his Pokémon.

"Totodile, Water Gun!"

"Psyduck, use your Water Gun too!" she quickly yelled.

The Pokémon threw their heads back, both releasing a large beam of water. The two water attacks met in the middle, neither force advancing. The Water Guns finally broke in a draw.

Ash furrowed his brow. This wasn't the Psyduck he remembered. "Totodile, use your Slash!"

"Dive underwater!"

* * *

The band started playing again—a string rendition of _Chopin's Nocturne No. 19 in E Minor_. Slow, haunting music settled over the room; couples dropped hands and separated but did not vacate the floor. The mesh of black suits and sparkling dresses rooted in their place.

She outlined the edge of the crowd, slowly at the pace of the music. She scanned the rocky terrain of tall and short gentlemen with their painted escorts, examining each face individually. _Nothing_.

The music morphed to something danceable. Couples took hands again and resumed their waltz. Her search continued, but this time with promise. He saw _him_, or at least she thought she did. She briefly caught sight of a young man with light copper skin and wild black hair at the far end of the dance floor. Then, like magic, he disappeared behind an adjoined body of a waltzing couple.

No, she couldn't lose him! Immediately, she jerked her head to the side to regain him. But a flurry of partners still blocked her vision, and mere impatience would not hasten the tempo. The moving bodies began to stagger and she narrowed her eyes to thin blue slits. _Nothing_—he was gone. Maybe he was never there. The lingering string and brass instruments made her sigh useless and forgotten.

The music finished its crescendo the same time she did. Her search became something less than frantic, and with a single bat of her eye lashes, moved on.

Her cerulean irises grazed the skin of those on the side. A tall boisterous man laughed in the corner, a martini in one hand a half smoked cigar in the other. To his left was a noticeably shorter woman; a plum dress to compliment her hair. The woman giggled to her companion's well timed joke and cooled herself with a paper fan.

Adjacent to them stood a rather stout gentleman, tuxedo clad, fingers wrapped around a tall glass of clear liquid. He partook every few seconds as he talked with his partner. Their words low and inaudible, a low chuckle or casual smirk peppered the conversation.

Passing them was a skinny waiter, holding up a tray of hors d'oeuvres. The man weaved his way passed the guests, the plate becoming lighter and lighter.

"Excuse me," she passed through an unimportant conversation belonging to two equally unimportant faces. She increased her steps toward the tables, stopping only for a passing couple or a waiter making rounds.

The maître d', a rather skinny man, was smacked silly merely by her presence. She giggled quietly and moved a strand of hair tickling her forehead. The man checked his clipboard for her name -there it was- and showed her to her table, on the outskirts of the others.

She graced him with a silent 'thank you' and took her seat; the only one at the table. Her index finger outlined the clear lip of her half empty glass. A few minutes went by, then a few agonizing more. A subtle trace of regret added to her loneliness. That is, until…

"Hello, miss."

"Hi," she giggled with a genuine smile. His voice was familiar and calm.

"May I have this dance?" he bent forward and extended his hand.

"Sure."

Together they stepped slowly, hand on hand to the dance floor, splitting the crowd as they did. They stopped in the middle of the hall. She took his left hand and shoulder; he took her right hand and waist.

The two spun majestically to the graceful music, drawing the attention of the bystanders. She twirled, and allowed him to guide her all the way back to his warm embrace. She could not hide a smile. For the first time tonight, she was actually enjoying herself.

* * *

"Psyduck, hang in there!" Misty shouted. Psyduck closed its eyes; the immense pressure was starting to take its toll.

"Keep it up, Totodile! We've almost got her!" Ash encouraged. The large jawed Pokémon clamped harder on Psyduck's head. At the command of his master he tried everything not to let go.

Psyduck's whine grew louder.

"Come on, Come on," Misty said under her breath.

"PSY!!!" a large blast of purple energy consumed the two Pokémon and exploded. The power shook the Gym. Ash and Misty yelled as the water splashed back. A little drizzle concluded the battle, along with a heavy cloud of smoke drifting high in the air.

"Totodile!"

"Psyduck!"

They both dove in the water and swam to their unconscious Pokémon. Misty, being the faster swimmer, flew through the water effortlessly and grabbed Psyduck. She aimed toward the surface and placed Psyduck on the middle of the floating pad just as Ash resurfaced with his Totodile. Both had fainted.

Ash wiped his damp face with a drenched sleeve. The two recalled their Pokémon silently and sat together attempting to catch their breath. A gentle pool tediously formed around them.

"Is Psyduck okay?" Ash coughed.

Misty nodded. "He'll be fine. How's Totodile?"

"He's gone through worse," Ash's breathing finally normalized. "A good night's rest should be all he needs."

"Good."

They sat in silence. Ash looked around, then at her, trying to gather his bearings. But she stole the first word from him.

"I can't believe this," Misty mumbled.

"What?"

"I can't believe the battle ended in a tie!"

"I know," Ash lowered his eyes. "I really wish that would've figured out our relationship for us."

"No, not that!" she sneered. "I can't believe I didn't beat you! I was so close!" Misty fell backward, now facing the glass ceiling. Her eyes disappeared beneath her soaked hair.

Ash blinked. After a short pause a smile crept across his face. He joined her lying on the floating pad.

"So," he paused long enough to make sure she was paying attention. "What do we do now?"

"No idea," she muttered, truthfully.

"I guess—I could continue working for the League."

"And I could just continue being a Gym Leader," she finished his thought. They glanced at each other at the same time, but snapped back when their eyes locked. They weren't good at this kind of thing. Talking didn't help. Battling didn't help. What was left?

Ash turned to is side, cradling his head against his fist. Misty's eyes still locked on the glassy sky, lost in thought.

He cleared his throat, "I have an idea." When she didn't say a word he continued. "There's another League function in Viridian City in a week."

"So…"

"I was thinking we could, you know, go together."

"You mean a date?"

"I mean, just go together." He made sure of the distinction.

"Forget it."

"But—"

"Why would I go, huh? Just so you could stand me up again?! Hell no!"

"I didn't stand you up! I told you, I didn't know you were going!"

"Well it won't happen! Not on your life!" She rose and stomped to the furthest edge of the platform. Ash matched her height, nonplused and uncertain.

"Mis…" but the confidence drained from his voice when he started. Her back was still facing him, refusing everything.

"Will you just look at me?!"

Not a thing.

She felt him reach for her and settle a hand on her arm. Something like electric shocks surged through her whole body as his fingers grazed her skin.

"_Misty_? _Please_?"

There was something extraordinary in his voice. Maybe it was the gentle way he said her name or the fact he asked her nicely for once. Regardless, there was no use fighting it. She hated how he could control her so effortlessly. Stupid, Ash.

Blue eyes matched much shinier brown ones.

"I'm sorry I've been, uh…"

"A Jerk," she said remarkably calm.

"Yeah, that. But I'm willing to make up for it.

"You broke my heart, Ash. There's nothing you can do to fix it."

"Well, will you at least let me _try_?"

And there it was: Ash Ketchum, showing his hand, laying all his cards on the table. Finally candid, sincere and looking cute as hell. And all she wanted to do was wipe those stupid puppy-Growlithe eyes off his face.

"Fine."

Ash leaned closer, not sure if she heard her right.

"I said 'fine,'" she said again, noticeably louder.

"Good," he whispered and smiled delicately. "Eight-o-clock. The Viridian Plaza. I'll be there."

"You better!" and with a violent shove, he was gone, into the water. The splash didn't touch her and she waited until his head poked up from the surface.

"Come on, dummy," she knelt down. "Let's get some food."

* * *

"You're late," she said through her smile.

"I'm late? You're early!" his eyes widened. "I told you seven!"

"No you didn't," Misty replied half in laugh. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Seemingly on cue, the music changed to something slow.

"Good," Ash barred his teeth and dropped his hands to her waist. Her hands slid up his shoulders and around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head. They fell through her fingers.

"You know, for a second I didn't think you'd show."

"Yeah, me either," Ash admitted. "It took everything I had to convince Pikachu he couldn't come. He really wanted to go to the last one. That reminds me!" he lightly tapped his head. They stopped dancing and he reached into his jacket pocket. He fished out a small piece of paper. Misty's eyes followed it's every moment as it stopped between them.

"Here," he said. "Take it."

"What is it?"

"It's my answer. I figure you wrote me a note the last time."

It was only folded once. She plucked it out of his palm and read it. She lost the strength in her fingers and it seesawed to the wooden floor. With tears on the verge of breaking, Misty buried her face into his chest. He held her close.

"I love you too, Ash," she softly whispered.

She looked up and connected with his eyes. Their faces inched closer, tilting slightly. They closed their eyes, slowly closing the gap between them. Just one more inch and…

"ASH KETCHUM, TO THE STAGE PLEASE!"

"Damn it!" Ash bent his head backward. "Gimme a break!"

His reaction made her giggle. Ash turned back to Misty; she could see the battle raging within him. He didn't want to go.

"It's okay," Misty whispered. "Go. I'll be here when you get back."

Ash nodded with a boyish smirk and ran to the stage. He jumped over the steps and joined Brock standing in the middle of the stage holding two glasses of champaign. The rock trainer handed him one.

"Gosh, Brock—you're timings perfect!" Ash swiped it from him, almost spilling half.

Brock chuckled. "Sorry, buddy. But its time to hear that speech you promised us. Wow us, Ash!" He graciously stepped out of the limelight, leaving Ash alone. All eyes landed on him. He gulped and loosened the top button of his dress shirt. The glass shook in his hand.

"Uh—" he echoed in the microphone. The agent scanned into the sea of bodies, ready to be blown away. Guess he should have actually prepared a speech. They would soon find out. Ash let out a deep sigh. "Thank you all for coming. It really means a lot to the Region, the League—and to me." He fumbled through the next sentence and ultimately gave up with another sigh.

In the whole audience of unfamiliar faces and anonymous bodies—he found Misty standing alone, with no glass, looking angelically beautiful. She was the most important person in the world to him. He linked his eyes with hers and for the moment, he could see only _her_.

"I know I haven't been the easiest person to get along with. Hell, I usually end up saying the wrong thing or messing everything up," he paused. "I've been a disappointment over the years, I know that. Up until now I've let other things get in the way of what's important. I want—I _need_ things to be different."

A single tear decorated her face.

His voice quivered but nonetheless, pressed on. "People say I inspire so much good, that I bring out the best in people. But it couldn't be more of the opposite. You give me the strength and the courage so I can keep going. It's because of you I'm a hero."

A deep breath. "I don't know what will happen to us tomorrow or what the future might bring; but I want you to know no matter what happens—I'll always be there for you. _Always_."

The audience roared and applauded. Ash raised his glass, followed by everyone else and took a sip. He wiped a stray line with his sleeve and grabbed the microphone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's something I must do!"

He flew off the platform and ran, slicing the crowd as he went. He stopped a few inches from her and took her by the waist. Misty closed her eyes as he leaned in. The space between them disappeared as their lips finally met. He came in too fast, bumped her teeth and released before she could finish. Ash smirked sheepishly, still inches away.

"You kiss like a sissy, Ash!" she grabbed his head and pulled it against her lips. He was ridged at first but eventually found their rhythm. He pulled her body flush against his as she snaked her hands through his hair.

They released to the surrounding applause of the entire League. Finally, their boy had found happiness. The deafening cheers filled the ball room. Misty couldn't hear a thing. She laughed as her eyes made their way to the wonderful boy she just kissed.

He said something to her, but because of the noise she couldn't hear what it was. Misty looked closer and focused on his lips, wishing to be part of them again. He mouthed the words again. Three words, three syllables followed by her name. Oh, how she loved when he said her name! Even though it wasn't heard, she knew what it was. She didn't have to hear it or read it anymore. She _knew_ how he felt, in her heart.

They embraced again. Misty rested her head on his chest and listened to the slow lullaby of Ash Ketchum's heart—the best sound in the world. In an instant, all of Ash and Misty's childhood fears, painful memories and inhibitions melted away. _All they knew had fallen_, and for once—they _loved_ every second of it.

**END**

**

* * *

  
**

"This heart it beats, beats for only you…" – _My Heart, Paramore_

_

* * *

  
_

**A/N** – Okay, so in case you didn't realize it already, the breaks in the story were actually flash-_forwards _instead of flash_backs._ I couldn't exactly have big bold letters telling you where you were, that would've ruined the tone.

I'm going to post a bonus chapter of all the flashbacks in chronological order. It might be kinda cool reading the story linearly. Also, if you have any questions for me or the story in general, feel free to ask them in your review and I'll include it in the author's notes. Let me know. Anyway, thank you to all who read and reviewed. You're awesome! This story is dedicated to Ash and Misty, Hayley and all you Pokeshippers out there! Bye for now.


	8. Decode

**A/N** – These are the entire flashback arcs in chronological order. The author's notes are at the end. Think of it as the special features on a DVD.

* * *

**All We Know Is Falling**

d i n o b o t

Chapter 8 – **Decode** (Bonus Chapter)

* * *

**FUNERAL/OAK FLASHBACKS**

He sat on the cold metal bench holding his head up with his hands. The boy's half fingered gloves covered the sides of his face. The trainer sighed heavily, nervously tapping the tile with his foot. It echoed through the walls of the locker room.

A small yellow mouse stood beside him and tugged on his jeans. He resurfaced from his void and managed an uneven grin to his friends comfort.

"Pika-chu," he squeaked.

"I appreciate it, buddy. I'm just a little nervous."

"Of course you are," a voice drew both their attention. "This is the most important day of your life. You better be nervous!"

Ash smiled. The sight of fellow Pallet Town civilians lifted his spirits. Gary Oak strolled in the locker room, steadily pushing his grandfather in a steel wheel chair.

"Hi Professor Oak, hi Gary!" Ash waved, trotting up to them.

"Hi Ash," Professor Oak smiled thinly.

Ash frowned. It had been a while since he last saw the Professor. He was so busy with training he didn't get a chance to phone him even during breaks. He had changed. The elderly man had lost some weight and had started to lose the color in his skin. His lines under his eyes were more defined; reminding him of the little energy he had left.

"How are you, Professor?" Ash asked, with worry in his voice.

"Oh, I'm fine," he replied modestly. "This wheelchair is just a precaution. I'm afraid I don't have as much strength as I used to. Gary was kind enough to volunteer as my chauffer for the day."

"Yeah, that's what happened," Gary mumbled good-naturedly.

"How are you doing, my boy?"

A long hesitation was his answer.

"He's shaking in his boots, look at him!" Gary laughed.

"I am not!" Ash replied. He lied. Nothing was further from the truth.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Professor Oak calmly reset the conversation. "It's normal for you to feel anxious."

"Anxious?" Ash repeated. "I can deal with anxiety. This is full on _dread_!" The aches in his stomach started to return; Ash exhaled deeply to calm his nerves.

"This is my whole career, my dream on the line!" Ash continued. "I—I don't think I can do this!"

"Nonsense," Professor Oak raised a hand. "Ash, you've come so far from that ten year old child I gave a first Pokémon to. You've progressed so much."

"Yeah, Ash you have," Gary added, surprisingly with no scathing tone.

Professor Oak coughed in the sleeve of his coat before resuming. "In fact, both you and Gary have developed quite well in your respective fields. And I'm lucky to have seen it all. Gary come over here," Professor Oak gestured.

Gary readily complied, joining Ash in front of Professor Oak.

The older man smiled sparingly against his pale complexion. "I just want to say I'm _proud_ of the two of you."

"Thanks, Grandpa."

"Thank you."

"Ash, you're a future Pokémon Master. And Gary, you're well on your way to becoming a great Pokémon Researcher. You both have overcome many obstacles and road blocks."

Both Ash and Gary gave a quick smile at one another.

"I want to give the two of you something," Oak said, reaching in his white coat pocket.

"What is it, Gramps?"

"Something very dear to me." Oak fished out a small Pokeball. But is wasn't an ordinary ball nor was it a state of the art Pokeball. It looked ancient, a hollowed out acorn from Kurt's oldest designs. It even had the gear to open the ball manually.

"This is my very first Pokeball," he said. He paused to cough into a handkerchief.

"From when you were a trainer, Professor?"

"Yes," he answered. "I've kept it with me for some fifty years." Professor Oak struggled with it but managed to snap it in two. "And I'm giving it to the two of you." He extended his hands, half a sphere in each one.

Gary was beside himself. "T-thanks, Grandpa."

"Yes, thank you," Ash smiled, showing it off to Pikachu.

"Pika!"

"But why are you giving this to us?"

Professor Oak exhaled softly. "It's a reminder."

"A reminder of what, Grandpa?"

"No matter what happens. No matter what circumstances or changes might befall you, _never compromise, never accept defeat. _This that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" they both said in unison.

"Good."

And just like that, the wrench in Ash's gut was gone. He straightened fully and smiled with his new found courage.

The gentle old man smiled warmly. "Now make us proud, Ash."

"Yeah, show 'em what Pallet kids are made of!" Gary added.

Ash nodded and allowed Pikachu to run up his shoulder. He walked through the tunnel: toward the thunderous roars of the crowds, toward his opponent, toward his destiny.

* * *

"Ash, are you ready yet?"

"Hold your Horseas, Mom!" Ash called back.

"We were supposed to leave for the funeral fifteen minutes ago!" Delia shouted; her voice muffled from behind Ash's door to his room.

Ash frowned as he looked into the mirror; he had been trying to tie his tie right for fifteen minutes. He never could get them the way he wanted. Ash quickly tied it in an uneven double knot loop and pushed it up crookedly to his collar. Good enough for Ash.

"I'll be out in a bit!" Ash yelled back. He slipped on a pair of black cotton socks and put on his newly shined shoes Delia had bought him.

There was a quiet knock on the door; Ash's mom slightly pushed it open to check on her son's progress. Ash rapidly tucked in his dress shirt in his black suit pants and threw on his matching jacket. He stood before his mother.

Delia giggled slightly. Only her son could look slovenly in a new suit. He didn't even do his hair yet. She walked over to him and fixed his collar and belt. Ash rolled his eyes; sons never outgrow the care of their mother, do they?

"Ash, hold still," she said, wiping away a smudge on her son's cheek. She licked her handkerchief and dug it into his face.

"Mah-um!" Ash complained. "This is ridiculous! I look ridiculous!"

"Nonsense," Delia brushed off her son's concern. "You look fine. Besides, I'm not letting my son attend a funeral in jeans and a regular shirt. What would people say?"

"They'd probably say 'his mother must have loved him for not forcing him to dress up like this,'" Ash sarcastically muttered.

"Ash, do you not want to go?" Delia sincerely asked.

"No, that's not it," Ash shook his head. "It's just, I've got a lot on my mind lately."

"Oh, you mean this?" Delia walked to Ash desk and waved his acceptance letter in her hand. "I'm so proud you got accepted to the League, dear. But I thought you were excited to go."

"I am excited," Ash assured her. "But there's a lot at stake here. The Pokémon League Agency is a big deal. I'm not sure I'm ready for it," Ash sunk back on his bed.

"We can't think about that right now, dear," Delia said, joining Ash on the bed. "Right now, we have an obligation to Professor Oak. We need to be there for the family, for Gary."

"Yeah, for Gary…" Ash trailed off.

"Just for today, forget all about that stuff," she advised. "Let's just pay our respects to our dear friend. Friends are important, honey."

"I know that, Mom," Ash laughed.

"I know you do," she smiled. "But being a good friend means thinking less about you and more about them. When they're in need you need to _be there for them_."

"Yeah," Ash agreed.

"Come on, we have a funeral to go to," Delia said as she rose from the bed. "Which we are now late for!" She shouted as she glanced at her watch.

"Whoa!" Ash shouted. The two bolted out of the room; Ash shut the door behind him.

* * *

"Ash Ketchum, have you no shame?"

"Whaaa?" Ash turned around, his mouth jam-packed full of food. He was met by set of turquoise eyes glaring back at him.

"Typical, Ash. This isn't the time for you to stuff your face, you know," the redhead smirked, giving him a quick wink.

"Sorry, Misty," he apologized after swallowing. He looked down at his plate, stacked to its full capacity. He carefully placed it on a white cloth table and took a slip of water from his cup.

"I didn't get a chance to eat today; I'm starving," he said.

"What were you doing all day?" Misty asked.

"Oh you know, just regular stuff, that's all," Ash shrugged with a blanket of generality.

"Did you just get here?" Misty asked, changing the subject. "I didn't see you during the funeral service."

"I—uh, got there kinda—late. I slipped in the back," Ash stammered.

"Late?" Misty repeated.

"I know, I know," Ash threw his hands up, trying to justify his behavior. "I should've been there early or at least got there when it started. I really don't know how, I just lost track of time. I know it's something that I always do and—"

"Ash," Misty interrupted him.

"Uh, yeah?"

"I wasn't going to say all those things," she assured him.

Ash confusingly rubbed the back of his head. It seemed like everyone he knew was pointing out his usual hallmark of tardiness or absentmindedness, especially in critical times like today. Ash was almost used to it but he wasn't used to this, especially coming from Misty.

"You weren't?" he warily asked.

"No," Misty shook her head. "I'm sure you had a good reason for being late."

"Uh, sure," Ash turned away and broke their eye contact.

He lied. Ash knew the reason for being late to Professor Oak's funeral was not an honorable one. The last few weeks Ash was stressing about his application he sent in to the Pokémon League Agency. The League only selected a handful of candidates every year from a pool of thousands of qualified trainers. The rejection rate was staggering. But after three arduous weeks of waiting Ash received his acceptance letter. It was a huge weight off his shoulders.

The relief however did not last. Now Ash had to deal with an overwhelming obstacle in front of him. The Pokémon League was one of the hardiest institutions to become part of. If one was fortunate to survive basic training they had to endure advance training. Only a few trainers actually passed.

The training program for future agents was rumored to be brutal, grueling and demanded nothing less than perfection—and Ash is going tomorrow.

"I'm just really distracted right now," Ash began. "I've kinda had a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Sure," Misty responded consolingly. "Pokémon training is hard enough. I mean, trying to become an agent has to be like million times harder."

"Wow, thanks," Ash sarcastically smirked. "That means a lot, Misty."

"You know what I mean," Misty playfully knocked him on the shoulder. "What I'm trying to say is I think you'll be fine."

"You do?" Ash was stunned. Misty never made it a habit to offer any type of encouragement. A hammer to the face or a snide comment was more her style. His curiosity perked him closer.

"What makes you think so?"

"Ash, don't you remember what I told you all those years ago?" Misty asked.

"Uh—that I was lazy?"

"No, not that," she replied.

"Ignorant?"

"Noooo…" Misty impatience swelled. She took the initiative as Ash clearly didn't have the answer.

"Ash," she said softly. "You just need to give it your all. I know that good things will happen if you _keep doing your best_."

She did it again. Nobody ever explained it so simply to him before. It made sense. It worked. Ash smiled. Misty returned the favor.

"Thanks, Misty."

"You're welcome. By the way, did you get a chance to talk to Gary yet?"

"No," Ash said, realizing he should have made that a top priority. "I need to do that before I leave. Where is he?"

"I think I saw him over there," Misty said, pointing toward the other side of the room.

"Good," Ash said as he took a few last bites off his plate. "Are you leaving right now?" he asked as Misty turned in the opposite direction.

"Yeah," she gave an uneven grin. "I have to travel all the way back to Cerulean City. Being a Gym Leader has its busy schedules, you know."

"I'm sure it does," Ash teased her.

"I'll see you later."

"Okay, bye!" Ash waved.

"Oh, and Ash," Misty called from a distance. "You can't pull off that suit! Stick to your regular wardrobe!" she laughed.

"I know—" he chuckled. "I hate these things."

* * *

"I hate these things."

Ash swallowed nervously as he fidgeted with his tie. He undid the top button of his new dress shirt, allowing him to breathe. Ash never liked ties, suits or anything fancy; but today was different. Ash cautiously peered away from his newly shined shoes and looked around.

Within his company were dozens of people, some he knew and some he didn't—all wearing black. Ash worked his way through the densely packed crowd. He stopped and carefully lifted his hand, placing it on the shoulder of another boy.

"I'm sorry," he said solemnly.

* * *

"Gary, I'm so sorry about your Grandfather; he was a wonderful man," an older woman said.

"If there's anything we can do, you let us know," a man to his left offered. He shook his hand, smiled unevenly and walked away.

"Thank you," Gary replied. As they left, he sat back on his chair despondently. He wilted and covered his face with his hands. He was tired; tired of this day. Making the arrangement for the funeral was hard enough. He was sick of the dozens of people he was forced to talk to, listening to their (at best) shaky condolences. Most of the people he didn't even know and probably was never going to see ever again. He just wanted today to end.

"I'm sorry about our loss, young man," a voice in front of him said. Gary split his fingers, allowing his eye to peek through. A tall man in a clean dark suit stood before him. One of his hands was shoved neatly in one pocket, the other he extended out for him to take.

Gary rose and shook it. "Uh, thanks I guess. Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Oh, I'm an old friend of your Grandfathers."

"Really? How do you know him?" Gary asked.

"That's neither here nor there," he dismissed his question. "I am actually here to talk about you, Gary."

"Me?" Gary echoed. "What about?"

"I'm wondering about your Grandfather's research and lab. What will happen to it now that he's past on?" the man cautiously asked him.

"I—I don't really know," Gary admitted. "I've been doing all of my research in Sinnoh. I guess I could carry on my research here."

"I think that is an excellent idea," he grinned.

"Who are you?" Gary warily asked.

"I'm a wealthy benefactor," he stated with a cloak of ambiguity. "I ask this because I'm interested in sponsoring your research and your findings."

"But doesn't the Pokémon League do that already?"

"Gary, Gary—" the man shook his head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The Pokémon League isn't interested in you. All they're interested in is your ideas," he said pointed to his head. "They halfway worked your Grandfather to death with the demands they put on that poor man."

"How do you know about that?"

"I make it my business to know," he said, reaching inside his jacket pocket. "With me you'll be able to further your scientific Pokémon research with total freedom. All I ask is a little compensation in return."

The man pulled out a small white business card and placed it in Gary's hand. "Or you could stay under the yoke of the Pokémon League and have them leech off you. It's your choice. I'll I ask is that you think about it."

Gary looked at the card. All it had on it were the letters "TR," and a phone number. He shoved the card into his pocket and exhaled deeply. He looked up and the mysterious man was gone, submerged in the crowds of black.

Gary felt some added weight on his shoulder. A hand gently placed itself on his upper back. He turned around.

"I'm sorry…"

* * *

"I'm sorry," he said solemnly.

The other boy turned around, his spiky brown hair bent in the light dusky breeze.

"Hi, Ash," he said softly. "Thank you for coming."

"No problem, Gary," Ash responded by shaking his head. The two remained in an awkward pause. Ash was never good in delicate social situations. A mere apology seemed cliché but a hug might be too forward. He elected to break the silence regardless.

"I'm sorry for your loss. I really am," he finally said.

"Yeah, I know you are," Gary nodded. "Grandpa was a wonderful man – smart and brilliant. My father was never around and he was like a father to me, you know?"

"I know. He was like a father to me too. He did so much for me and my family. Professor Oak started me on my dream to become a Pokémon Master. His guidance throughout the years is invaluable. He even kept my Mom company when I was away."

"Yep, that's Gramps," Gary chuckled. "He was kind and always did the right thing."

Ash nodded in agreement. Another uneven silence carried itself between them. This time Gary dismissed it.

"I'm gonna miss him," Gary said, smiling through his newly forming tears. "I don't know what to do next" he wiped them away.

"Well, the lab is still in your family's name, isn't it? Maybe you can continue running it."

Gary sighed; the notion of filling the shoes of the renowned Samuel Oak was a daunting task. The Professor was widely known and well respected as evidence of the distinguished attendees present at his funeral. Various Professors from other regions, Gym Leaders and League Officials were there all mixed in with his many friends and colleagues.

"I don't know, Ash. I mean, there's so much to do to run that lab. Sure, I was Grandpa's intern for a while so to speak, but he did most of the heavy research. I just followed his lead. He taught me all I know," Gary placed the palm of his hand on his forehead. "Not to mention there's the bills, upkeep, Pokémon to take care of, maintenance—" Gary trailed off despondently.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Ash reassured him.

His solace did not alleviate his concern, but it did lead to a powerful realization. Gary confidently lifted up his head and beamed.

"Grandpa would've wanted me to continue," Gary exclaimed. "I owe it to him to carry on his legacy; it would make him happy. I want him to be proud of me."

"I bet he is."

"People will see," Gary whispered. "I'll carve out an even greater legacy than Grandpa did. I'm going to accomplish more. I'm going to be better—" he turned to Ash, eyes burning zealously. "You'll be there right, Ash?"

"Sure, you got it!"

"Grandpa was like a father to you too, Ash. Do you know what that makes us?"

Ash thought for a moment; "Uh—Family?"

"Brothers," he corrected him, extending his hand. Ash gratefully shook it.

"Well, I better go. I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow," Ash said gesturing to his ride outside.

"Oh right," Gary smirked, embarrassed for his temporary lapse in memory. "So, when you're done with the League's training you'll be what, a Pokémon Ranger?"

"Nah, when I'm done the Rangers will be calling me 'sir,'" he boasted, pointing to his chest.

The two laughed, shared a quick friendly goodbye and parted.

"See ya!"

* * *

**VERMILLION CITY FUNCTION FLASHBACKS**

"What a day," Misty mumbled, opening the swinging doors from the Cerulean Gym battle area to the lobby. Her orange hair fell freely, lightly grazing her upper back. A small white towel cuddled over her neck and draped over both shoulders. She took it and wiped the sweat forming on her forehead. She wore a light blue colored two piece bikini with a white bubble pattern. Her ensemble completed with a matching waterproof overcoat dropping at thighs length.

She entered into the empty lobby, swiping a small clipboard on the receptionist desk. Using the attached pen, she scanned the contents carefully and checked off the tasks.

"Well, let's see…" she said, going down the list. "Clean pool—check. Feed Pokémon—check. Replace diving board—check," writing a small check mark beside every task she read.

"Oh, crap!" Misty immediately shot up from the papers. Listed at the end of her reminders was an appointment. "What day is it?" Misty asked herself, frantically searching for her Water Pokémon themed calendar hanging on the wall beside the desk.

"Good," she sighed in relief; the Pokémon League Gym Leaders meeting was still a few days away. Official Gym Leaders certainly lead a busy life and Misty was no exception. Aside from the dozens of trainers that walked through the doors begging for a battle (or more accurately her Cascade Badge), she had daily maintenance and errands to perform. Indeed, the days easily bled together making time a constant wonder.

Misty worked her way to the couch and took her seat. She kicked up her legs on the nearby table, crossed them and laid her head back on the cushion. Pokémon League meetings were more frequent nowadays. Misty didn't object to attending them as they were more an inconvenience. They did however provide a much needed break.

In the last few years the Pokémon League tightened; became significantly strict. Misty remembered the last meeting, the lecturer being Lance the Dragon Master. He meant business; speaking with powerful conviction the whole time. Lance mentioned the importance of strengthening the core of the Pokémon League. The Gym Leaders have a duty (make that an honor) to uphold the principles the Pokémon League stand for. They are to instill proper values and morals to their students and incoming trainers.

He even reminded them about the need for serious Pokémon Training. Team Rocket had secretly gone from a fledgling gang of thieves to a viable force of organized crime. Gym Leaders weren't called upon to fight but they were to set a high standard and be ready if anything did happen.

That wasn't a problem for Misty. She made sure all her Pokémon were trained and properly cared for, regardless of the direction. She strived to keep getting better every day. Someone once taught her that a long time ago.

"Hey, how's it going, Misty?"

The water Gym Leader broke her thoughts and turned her head to the voice. A tall attractive woman with cascading blond hair stood a few feet in front of her. She flipped her golden hair backward, took off her sunglasses and gave Misty a quick wink.

"Taking a small break are we, little sister?" the blond woman giggled, leaning in slightly.

Misty smiled. "Hi, Daisy—how have you been?" she said standing up and gave her big sister a hug. It had been weeks since she last saw her.

"I'm good. My movie is filming a scene right here in Cerulean City. We're done shooting for the day so I decided to visit home."

"Don't you have a photo shoot or an interview to go to, or something?"

"Well yeah," Daisy playfully agreed. "But I wanted to spend some time with my baby sister."

"Well, thank you for gracing me with your presence," Misty sarcastically bowed, causing both of them to laugh. "I'm glad at least one of my sisters remembered me back at our family Gym."

"Oh, Misty," Daisy started. "You know Violet and Lilly love you. They just have full schedules with their modeling careers, you know that."

"Yeah, I know," Misty waved. "So, what's the movie about?"

"Oh, just a small romantic flick," Daisy replied modestly. "Not my usual blockbuster role but it'll do."

Misty knew she wasn't lying. Since leaving the Gym a few years ago, Daisy had progressively built her acting career. With a flurry of huge smash-hit roles under her belt, Daisy became one of the most sought after actresses in all of Kanto. Misty was proud of her older sister.

"How about you; how's the Gym life going, Misty?"

"It's tough," Misty honestly responded. "Being a Gym Leader is hard work but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"I bet," Daisy smiled. "Looks like you got a pretty good handle on things around here." Turning to the receptionist desk, she noticed a large stack of unopened mail. "Whoa, a little behind on your mail, aren't we?"

"Oh that? Mail isn't exactly my first priority, you know. My Pokémon always come first."

"Of course," she picked up a few unopened envelopes and waved them around. "May I?" she asked, grinning a little too hard.

"Be my guest," Misty giggled, sitting back down on the couch. She grabbed a small water bottle off the table and drank, listening to her nosey sister.

Daisy shuffled the envelopes around, unenthusiastically reading the headings. "Bills, junk mail, bank statements…"

"I do lead an exciting life, don't I?" Misty joked, taking another sip of her bottle. It wouldn't be a bore for long. Daisy's emerald eyes perked as she found a blue envelope and separated it from the rest of the "junk mail."

"Lookie what I found," Daisy announced half in song, wielding it in Misty's direction.

"What is it?" Misty asked indifferently.

"Looks like an invitation to a party." The older girl took the couch opposite of Misty's. The Gym Leader raised in eyebrow. That couldn't be right; she was never considered part of the elite social pipeline. This had to be a practical joke.

"I'm not lying," Daisy assured, knowing full well of her sister's train of thought. "Look, it's an official invitation to the Pokémon League fund raiser in Vermillion City! It's in a few weeks."

"Big whoop," Misty slouched on her couch. Large functions didn't appeal to her one bit. A bunch of girls in backless dresses and men in tuxedoes parading around the dance floor sounded pretty uneventful. Nothing exciting about a bunch of drunken guys hitting on her the whole evening too. She didn't even mention her poor dancing skills.

"But it is a big deal!" Daisy said in protest. "This is your own personal invitation." She read the rest—line by line. A smile crept across her face. This would get her.

"Ash will be there."

"WHAT?!" Misty screamed in mid drink, spraying water everywhere. The flustered girl coughed and sputtered, wiping her mouth with her forearm. She looked at Daisy who was caught in her range. Who cares about that; she mentioned…

"W-What did you say?" Misty nervously asked, her apology already forgotten.

Daisy giggled. "Well, well—looks like I hit a nerve." She definitely knew how to push her little sisters' buttons.

Misty's face turned a hue of red. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said trying to hide her blushing face.

"Come on sis, I still can't believe after all these years—" Daisy started. Misty didn't even give her a change to finish her thought.

"It was just a stupid _childhood crush_!" Misty defended her reaction. "It was a really long time ago—that's it," Misty said forcefully.

Daisy grinned; she knew her little sister's tone too. It was the 'drop it now or else' tone. She submitted, for the moment.

"Suit yourself," Daisy said with a small pop of her shoulders, resetting the conversation with her nonchalance. "But Ash really is going to be there, look it even says on the invitation." Daisy briefly flashed its contents in Misty's face then quickly retracted before Misty could take it and tear it to pieces.

"Wow, Ash must be pretty important to the Pokémon League," Daisy said, reading it again.

"What do you mean?" Misty lobbied her further.

"He's giving the keynote speech."

"So," Misty shrugged, tempering her interest. "Big deal, it's just a lousy speech. Ash is horrible at speeches anyway. He'd probably find a way to screw it up."

"Not so fast, little sis," Daisy countered. "I've been to one of these before. I dated a League Agent for three months, remember? The Elite Four doesn't give this to just any ordinary person. Only the top agent gets this honor."

"Really?" the words captured her attention. She extended a hand, pleading for the now important piece of paper. Daisy happily gave up the invitation; its existence was ensured now. Misty read it over and over with disbelief.

"Wasn't becoming a Pokémon League Agent his dream?" Daisy asked.

"No, not originally," Misty corrected her. "Ash wanted to become the greatest Pokémon Master. He decided to apply to the Pokémon League Agency a few months after."

"Right. I still remember watching that last championship battle on TV. That kid tore it up!"

"Yeah," Misty smiled inwardly. If there was a topic not debatable it was Ash's Pokémon handling. He proved unquestionably he was the best that day. He stood alone as the Pokémon Champion.

"It's perfect!" Daisy squealed, pumping her fists. "Oh, this is just like in the movies! Misty, you definitely have to go now!"

"What are you talking about, Daisy?" Misty didn't share her sister's enthusiasm; more like a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"Ash has made quite a name for himself. He's gotten to the highest point of his career. When the hero of the movie finally achieves all of his goals he realizes in the end it isn't enough—he needs more!"

"This isn't like the movies, Daisy!" Misty argued.

"I know, but he's obviously matured enough to make it this far. Now he can focus on other things; now he can focus on things like—" Daisy stopped.

"Like what?" she pleaded for the ending.

"I don't know," Daisy smirked slyly. "Like a certain _childhood crush_, maybe."

Misty looked down as a pathetic attempt to hide her blush. Daisy certainly had more experience in the 'L' category than she did. Of all the things Daisy had an aptitude for she definitely had a vast knowledge of relationships and men. Was she right? Maybe, just maybe—Ash had grown up.

"So, I'll be here in a few weeks to look after the Gym," Daisy grinned, quite proud of herself. She slipped on her sunglasses and aimed for a smooth exit.

"Wait, you're filling in? Why?"

"Because we both know you're going to that function, Misty," Daisy beamed. "I'll be back tomorrow to help you shop for a dress."

Misty shook her head like waking from a dream. Her eyes narrowed to the small blue invitation lying hopefully on the table. What just happened here?

"See ya later, little sis…"

* * *

"Well—one of our agents was scheduled to say a few words, but since he's not here I guess I'll fill in," Lance smiled nervously behind the microphone. "I would like to thank all of you for coming. Special thanks to the city of Vermillion for hosting this gathering for us. The Pokémon League appreciates all your generous donations and support."

The audience applauded and cheered.

Lance cleared his throat and continued. "These last few years have been a challenging time in Kanto. Organized crime has steadily increased and because of that we've demanded so much from you Gym Leaders and Researchers. But seeing all of you here really strengthens us. So, drink up and enjoy your night. Thank you!"

Lance walked off the stage accompanied by another wave of thunderous applause. The music resumed and the attendees went on with their evening.

Misty sighed heavily, supporting her chin with her fist. Her elbow was on a circular table, covered in a red satin cloth. She looked at her plate; she had barely touched her food. She toyed with the thin black straw in her drink; the halfway melted ice cubes spun and twisted in the tall glass.

She was bored. She was the only one at the table; everyone else left to mingle in the crowds or dance with their escorts. Misty smirked, regretting her decision to come to this event. Sure, she loved to dress up (a busy Gym Leader rarely gets the chance) but it proved to be small consolation as the night progressed. She scanned the extravagant ballroom hall, but didn't find what she was looking for.

Reaching in her purse, Misty pulled out a small piece of paper and pen. She sighed deeply and started to write. She held it up and read it over and over. A small tear fell from the corner of her eye.

"Hey, there's the life of the party," a voice said.

"What?" Misty asked, crumpling the paper in her hand.

"Hi Misty—how are ya?" Brock smiled.

Misty was impressed; even Brock dressed up for the function. He wore a clean tuxedo fitting perfectly to his build. His wardrobe harmonized flawlessly, from his handkerchief tucked neatly into his front jacket pocket to his shiny black shoes.

"Well, you sure clean up nice," Misty smirked. "I'm doing great, can't you tell?" she said sarcastically.

Brock laughed. As soon as he did two beautiful girls walked up behind him, each taking an arm. One leaned her pretty little head on Brock's shoulder.

"Brock," she complained. "You said you were going to dance with me tonight."

"Yeah, you promised us!" the other chipped in.

"Alright, alright ladies," Brock said, sporting an enormous smile. "I'll catch up with you later. Why don't you two get a few drinks at the bar?"

The suggestion appeased both girls as they darted away eager to drink their body weight. Misty shook her head and laughed.

"You're pathetic," she giggled.

"What?"

"Brock, I know you're a 'self described ladies man,' but don't you think bringing two dates is a little tacky?"

"Oh, no you don't understand," Brock attempted to explain. "The one on the right is my date. The other one was for—someone else who didn't show."

"I see."

"So, why don't you join the party like everyone else?" Brock asked, panning to the crowds.

"Oh, I think I've had enough partying to last me for a while," Misty cynically replied, getting up from her chair.

"Come on, I'll save a dance for ya," Brock extended his hand, trying to persuade her.

"Thanks friend," Misty looped her purse around her shoulder. "But I'm just going to call it a night. Bye."

Brock frowned and walked away. He turned back before Misty left her table.

"Misty—I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry he's not here."

Misty held her breath. Without saying a word, she made her way through the joyous crowds and exited. Misty looked at the piece of paper still collapsed in her palm and tossed it in a garbage bin and left—alone.

* * *

"Oh, come on!" Ash slammed his fists against the door. He wrapped his fingers around the door knob and tried to turn but it did not budge. He peered inside, cupping his hands around his face for more visibility. A white curtain covering the glass made the dancing figures look like ghostly silhouettes. They were probably having the time of their life.

"Pika?" his yellow friend asked.

"I can't believe they locked the door on me," Ash sighed, taking a few steps back. "I'm not that late, am I Pikachu?"

He lied. Ash knew it was mandatory for agents to attend League functions. Even though he despised them he was still obligated to go. Brock made sure of that.

"I just lost track of time," Ash said to nobody. "I was planning on being in the training room only for a few minutes." Five hours was more like it.

The truth was, Ash never planned on attending. Even though the Elite Four awarded him the honor of giving the keynote speech (which he never attempted to write); it was brushed under the rug of training exercises and sleep. Lots of sleep.

Ash's cherry red Ferrari parked diagonally to the white lines of the parking lot; skid marks from all four tires etched in the asphalt. Ash probably broke every speed limit in the book to get there. Indigo to Vermillion usually takes a few hours. Ash did it in less than one.

The agent (still adorned in his work out clothes) turned to his Pokémon. "I don't think we can get in, Pikachu. Doors close right before dinner. A lot of the people have already left." Ash scanned behind him. The parking lot looked like a smile full of missing teeth.

"This is going to be bad," Ash groaned, rubbing the back of his head. He was on his last nerve with the council. Coming late to meetings and league functions were his hallmark. Not to mention the incident with Lance's car. Ash shuddered. His hands still felt covered in grime no matter how many times he washed them.

"Pikapi?" the electric mouse asked.

"Sorry, I forgot. They don't allow Pokémon inside fancy parties like these," Ash knelt down and scratched him behind the ears. "But I guess it doesn't matter now."

Ash rose and tried the door once more. As he turned to leave, Ash found Pikachu balancing on the rim of a garbage can beside the door. Pikachu teetered on the brim of the receptacle, reaching for something inside. Ash narrowed his eyes inward and laughed slightly. Maybe he should have fed Pikachu before he left.

"Alright buddy, I got it," he said, awarding the half empty ketchup bottle to the persistent Pokémon. Pikachu happily accepted his trophy. This alone was worth the trip.

Something else captured the agent's attention. He reached in and delicately plucked a crumpled piece of paper resting just under the rim. It looked like it had his name on it, but that couldn't be right.

The boy unfolded it and tried to rub the creases out against his knee. He read…he read it again. Ash twisted and peered through the doors of the ball room then raked his eyes across the parking lot again. Nothing.

"Misty?" the boy asked, hand still clutching the note.

* * *

Misty slammed the door to her room. Back against the door, she felt a single tear outlining her cheek bone and wiped it away with her palm. Her hand slid off her face, smearing her eye liner makeup. She sobbed softly and locked the door from behind her back.

Stepping over the clothes laying aimlessly on the floor, Misty found her way to her bed and sat on the blue water Pokémon printed covers. She unbuckled and took off her high heels. They matched her dress. The whole wardrobe almost cost her fortune. Why did she let Daisy talk her into going? Where's that damn receipt? Why did she allow herself to believe?

'What's wrong with me?' a question she repeated over and over.

A sudden surge of anger surfaced from Misty's sadness making her throw one of her shoes across the room. It knocked off the opposing wall and disappeared behind the dresser.

A knock on the door. "Misty, is that you?"

"GO AWAY!" she shouted, struggling to hold back the hotness in her eyes. She yanked the clips out of her hair. The orange locks loosened from the eloquent design it was in all night and fell to her shoulders.

Another knock. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine! You can leave now, Daisy!" Misty bitterly ordered. She looked down at her appearance: A silky midnight blue dress, shoulder-less and fit her absolutely perfect. She got about a hundred compliments the whole evening.

She hated it now.

More knocks. "Misty, what happened at the function? Tell me what's wrong!"

"Nothing's wrong! Just leave me ALONE!" the angry redhead screamed at the top of her lungs. She waited a few seconds in silence. Daisy had apparently given up; and so did she.

The broken girl curled up in her bed, clutched her pillow to her chest and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

**VIRIDIAN CITY FUNCTION FLASHFORWARDS**

A large door. A long exhale. Her steamy breath disappeared into the cold. She entered.

"Here goes nothing."

* * *

"May I take your coat, miss?"

The black overcoat slid off her bare shoulders and she handed it to the doorman. She held in her breathe and released fluidly before entering the main hall.

Her entrance rippled through the entire room, like tossing a pebble in a still pond. Their attention was captured by the beautiful red head gliding across the floor. Every head turned: man, woman, waiter, even the violinists stumbled on a few notes. She severed the dance floor in half; the couples parted allowing her across.

She was breathtaking. The dark sapphire dress fit perfectly to her slender form. A thin silver necklace haloed her neckline. Long white gloves ran up her forearms. Her fire-lit hair was held up in an elegant design, outshining the twinkling chandeliers suspended below the ceiling.

The young woman floated evenly to the bar and outlined the mahogany counter top with her index finger. The barkeep was completely transfixed, forgetting about the drink he was making. Perfectly applied makeup was contrasted by smooth cherry lips. She moved a stray bang from her soft milky skin and tucked it behind her ear.

"Uh—what'll it be?" he asked after a nervous gulp.

She looked at him through long eyelashes and licked her alluring lips damp before speaking.

"Blue lagoon." The words sounded sweeter than the drink.

For a moment, he forgot what a cocktail was but then scrambled for the appropriate ingredients. Ice, vodka, Blue Curacao and lemonade garnished with a lemon slice. He dropped a straw in the tall glass and slid it over.

She held the tiny straw between her teeth and sipped the sparkling blue liquid. Releasing a satisfied moan, she took a twenty from her "pocket," placed it on the counter and slid it over with her index finger.

"Keep the change." An alluring smile stripped the courage of every guy at the bar. Suddenly, intoxicating liquor found its competition. She took the glass with the tips of her fingers and disappeared back into the crowd.

* * *

The band started playing again—a string rendition of _Chopin's Nocturne No. 19 in E Minor_. Slow, haunting music settled over the room; couples dropped hands and separated but did not vacate the floor. The mesh of black suits and sparkling dresses rooted in their place.

She outlined the edge of the crowd, slowly at the pace of the music. She scanned the rocky terrain of tall and short gentlemen with their painted escorts, examining each face individually. _Nothing_.

The music morphed to something danceable. Couples took hands again and resumed their waltz. Her search continued, but this time with promise. He saw _him_, or at least she thought she did. She briefly caught sight of a young man with light copper skin and wild black hair at the far end of the dance floor. Then, like magic, he disappeared behind an adjoined body of a waltzing couple.

No, she couldn't lose him! Immediately, she jerked her head to the side to regain him. But a flurry of partners still blocked her vision, and mere impatience would not hasten the tempo. The moving bodies began to stagger and she narrowed her eyes to thin blue slits. _Nothing_—he was gone. Maybe he was never there. The lingering string and brass instruments made her sigh useless and forgotten.

The music finished its crescendo the same time she did. Her search became something less than frantic, and with a single bat of her eye lashes, moved on.

Her cerulean irises grazed the skin of those on the side. A tall boisterous man laughed in the corner, a martini in one hand a half smoked cigar in the other. To his left was a noticeably shorter woman; a plum dress to compliment her hair. The woman giggled to her companion's well timed joke and cooled herself with a paper fan.

Adjacent to them stood a rather stout gentleman, tuxedo clad, fingers wrapped around a tall glass of clear liquid. He partook every few seconds as he talked with his partner. Their words low and inaudible, a low chuckle or casual smirk peppered the conversation.

Passing them was a skinny waiter, holding up a tray of hors d'oeuvres. The man weaved his way passed the guests, the plate becoming lighter and lighter.

"Excuse me," she passed through an unimportant conversation belonging to two equally unimportant faces. She increased her steps toward the tables, stopping only for a passing couple or a waiter making rounds.

The maître d', a rather skinny man, was smacked silly merely by her presence. She giggled quietly and moved a strand of hair tickling her forehead. The man checked his clipboard for her name -there it was- and showed her to her table, on the outskirts of the others.

She graced him with a silent 'thank you' and took her seat; the only one at the table. Her index finger outlined the clear lip of her half empty glass. A few minutes went by, then a few agonizing more. A subtle trace of regret added to her loneliness. That is, until…

"Hello, miss."

"Hi," she giggled with a genuine smile. His voice was familiar and calm.

"May I have this dance?" he bent forward and extended his hand.

"Sure."

Together they stepped slowly, hand on hand to the dance floor, splitting the crowd as they did. They stopped in the middle of the hall. She took his left hand and shoulder; he took her right hand and waist.

The two spun majestically to the graceful music, drawing the attention of the bystanders. She twirled, and allowed him to guide her all the way back to his warm embrace. She could not hide a smile. For the first time tonight, she was actually enjoying herself.

* * *

"You're late," she said through her smile.

"I'm late? You're early!" his eyes widened. "I told you seven!"

"No you didn't," Misty replied half in laugh. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Seemingly on cue, the music changed to something slow.

"Good," Ash barred his teeth and dropped his hands to her waist. Her hands slid up his shoulders and around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head. They fell through her fingers.

"You know, for a second I didn't think you'd show."

"Yeah, me either," Ash admitted. "It took everything I had to convince Pikachu he couldn't come. He really wanted to go to the last one. That reminds me!" he lightly tapped his head. They stopped dancing and he reached into his jacket pocket. He fished out a small piece of paper. Misty's eyes followed it's every moment as it stopped between them.

"Here," he said. "Take it."

"What is it?"

"It's my answer. I figure you wrote me a note the last time."

It was only folded once. She plucked it out of his palm and read it. She lost the strength in her fingers and it seesawed to the wooden floor. With tears on the verge of breaking, Misty buried her face into his chest. He held her close.

"I love you too, Ash," she softly whispered.

She looked up and connected with his eyes. Their faces inched closer, tilting slightly. They closed their eyes, slowly closing the gap between them. Just one more inch and…

"ASH KETCHUM, TO THE STAGE PLEASE!"

"Damn it!" Ash bent his head backward. "Gimme a break!"

His reaction made her giggle. Ash turned back to Misty; she could see the battle raging within him. He didn't want to go.

"It's okay," Misty whispered. "Go. I'll be here when you get back."

Ash nodded with a boyish smirk and ran to the stage. He jumped over the steps and joined Brock standing in the middle of the stage holding two glasses of champaign. The rock trainer handed him one.

"Gosh, Brock—you're timings perfect!" Ash swiped it from him, almost spilling half.

Brock chuckled. "Sorry, buddy. But its time to hear that speech you promised us. Wow us, Ash!" He graciously stepped out of the limelight, leaving Ash alone. All eyes landed on him. He gulped and loosened the top button of his dress shirt. The glass shook in his hand.

"Uh—" he echoed in the microphone. The agent scanned into the sea of bodies, ready to be blown away. Guess he should have actually prepared a speech. They would soon find out. Ash let out a deep sigh. "Thank you all for coming. It really means a lot to the Region, the League—and to me." He fumbled through the next sentence and ultimately gave up with another sigh.

In the whole audience of unfamiliar faces and anonymous bodies—he found Misty standing alone, with no glass, looking angelically beautiful. She was the most important person in the world to him. He linked his eyes with hers and for the moment, he could see only _her_.

"I know I haven't been the easiest person to get along with. Hell, I usually end up saying the wrong thing or messing everything up," he paused. "I've been a disappointment over the years, I know that. Up until now I've let other things get in the way of what's important. I want—I _need_ things to be different."

A single tear decorated her face.

His voice quivered but nonetheless, pressed on. "People say I inspire so much good, that I bring out the best in people. But it couldn't be more of the opposite. You give me the strength and the courage so I can keep going. It's because of you I'm a hero."

A deep breath. "I don't know what will happen to us tomorrow or what the future might bring; but I want you to know no matter what happens—I'll always be there for you. _Always_."

The audience roared and applauded. Ash raised his glass, followed by everyone else and took a sip. He wiped a stray line with his sleeve and grabbed the microphone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's something I must do!"

He flew off the platform and ran, slicing the crowd as he went. He stopped a few inches from her and took her by the waist. Misty closed her eyes as he leaned in. The space between them disappeared as their lips finally met. He came in too fast, bumped her teeth and released before she could finish. Ash smirked sheepishly, still inches away.

"You kiss like a sissy, Ash!" she grabbed his head and pulled it against her lips. He was ridged at first but eventually found their rhythm. He pulled her body flush against his as she snaked her hands through his hair.

They released to the surrounding applause of the entire League. Finally, their boy had found happiness. The deafening cheers filled the ball room. Misty couldn't hear a thing. She laughed as her eyes made their way to the wonderful boy she just kissed.

He said something to her, but because of the noise she couldn't hear what it was. Misty looked closer and focused on his lips, wishing to be part of them again. He mouthed the words again. Three words, three syllables followed by her name. Oh, how she loved when he said her name! Even though it wasn't heard, she knew what it was. She didn't have to hear it or read it anymore. She _knew_ how he felt, in her heart.

They embraced again. Misty rested her head on his chest and listened to the slow lullaby of Ash Ketchum's heart—the best sound in the world. In an instant, all of Ash and Misty's childhood fears, painful memories and inhibitions melted away. _All they knew had fallen_, and for once—they _loved_ every second of it.

**END**

* * *

"How did we get here? Well, I think I know…" – _Decode, Paramore_

* * *

**A/N** – The inspiration for this story comes from many sources, I suppose. All the writers in my favorites list for sure. I've had this story in the back of my mind for a long time, but the catalyst for bringing it out of the 'story board' phase was _Ceruleanite_'s story "_For your Protection_." I thank him for the starter. I also credit _Legacy_'s spy fic too. I started re-reading it around chapter five, so that explains all the crazy fight/chase scenes randomly popping out of nowhere.

The flashbacks come from _LOST_.

The story's namesake obviously comes from _Paramore_'s debut album "_All We Know Is Falling_." I was originally going to have a chapter for all eleven songs, but I didn't want to write any filler and draw it out.

People have been asking for a sequel and I actually have an idea for one. However, I don't think I'll have time for it. Maybe down the road, maybe...

Thanks for reading and reviewing.


	9. Preview

**The following is a preview for the upcoming sequel to All We Know Is Falling...**

* * *

The remaining Rocket meets Ash in the center of the room, unsheathes a small knife from his boot and lunches for the agent's stomach. He easily dodges the attempt and catches him by the forearm and neck. One quick snap of his wrist causes the Rocket to drop the knife, and is forced to meet the enraged agent in his cold eyes.

"Where is she?"

The Rocket manages a cocky smile, earning him a vicious blow to the face and a trickle of blood down his broken nose.

He shakes him again. "Damn it, tell me! Where is she?" he screams and slams him to the floor, holding him tightly by the collar. The man dangles in his grasp, completely at the will of his ferocity, but his broken smile still lingers through his battered countenance.

"You fool," he chokes out. "Did you really think she'd be here?"

His patience ends with another strike to the jaw. The man grunts and falls to the floor, reeling in pain. Ash stands over the Rocket, face a mantle of hatred, eyes swollen with anger - and what few tears he cannot hold back, bravely escape down his cheeks and outlines his profile before falling freely on his clothes. Shaking off the Rocket's blood burning his knuckles he wraps his fingers around his neck and squeezes.

"I'll kill you," he whispers face to face.

"Look at you," the Rocket coughs weakly as his grip intensifies. "You can't even help yourself... how can you help her?"

"Tell me where she is. Now."

**- 'Brand New Eyes', scheduled to be posted 5.25.11**


End file.
